Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Tough Stuff (29 page)

“Well,” she said, trying to keep her messy snow cone under control. “His church group went skiing this week.” She paused to take a lick.

Lucky guy,
I thought.

My sister swallowed the ice chips and continued, “So he went skiing and today he died.”

I felt the blood drain from my face in disbelief. My hands froze on the keyboard, and a line of Rs inched across the screen. My jaw slowly dropped as I tried to process what she'd said.
Breathe,
something in my head screamed. I shook my head and whipped around to look at my sister.

She was still innocently munching on her snow cone, staring at it determinedly. Her eyes rose to mine and she leaned back, a little startled. “What?” she asked.

“Y-you're joking, right? Who told you that? I don't believe it. How? Are you sure?” I spit out a long string of questions.

“Claire,” she stopped me. She began a little slower this time. “A girl on my softball team was house-sitting for them. Justin's parents called her today and told her, and she told me. Sorry, I didn't think you knew him.” She sat very still waiting for my response.

Every memory I had of Justin flashed through my mind. I inhaled slowly. “No. No! NO!” I tried to scream. No words came out. I sat up clumsily and shakily ran from the room with my sister behind me yelling, “Wait! I'm sorry . . .”

I called one of our mutual friends right away. She told me between sobs that no one knew why he died. The thirteen-year-old was as healthy as a horse. He fell asleep on Saturday night in the hotel room, and when his roommate tried to wake him up Sunday morning, Justin wasn't breathing. I didn't want her to hear me cry, so I quickly got off the phone.

I went to school the next day and put on the same strong mask. The principal gave an impersonal announcement about Justin's death that morning and almost immediately I could hear sobs throughout the classroom. That was the worst week of my life. I tried to be a shoulder for others to cry on, but inside I was the one crying.

On Wednesday evening my friend gave me a ride to Justin's viewing. What surprised me when we walked into the room was that Justin's parents weren't crying. They were smiling and comforting everyone. I asked them how they were holding up, and they told me that they were fine. They told me they knew that he wasn't hurting now, that he was with God and would wait for them in heaven. I cried and nearly collapsed. Mrs. Schultz stepped forward to hug me, and I cried on her beautiful red sweater. I looked into her eyes and saw her sympathy for a girl who'd lost her friend.

I went home that night with a deep sadness in my heart for Justin. I wrote a letter to him that I planned on giving him at his funeral. In the letter I wrote to him about how sad everyone was, how much we missed him, how wonderful his parents were and the things he'd never get to do on Earth. I closed it with:

  
Somehow I've always believed that once in heaven,
tangible things really don't mean that much anymore.
Well, before you get too used to your new life, take
these things with you. The smell of grass thirty minutes
after it's cut. The feel of freshly washed sheets.
The heat of a small candle. The sound a bee makes. The
taste of a hot Coke just poured and swirling with ice—
hot, but partially cold. The feel of raindrops on your
soaked face. But if you take nothing else with you, take
your family's embrace.

I paused and stared into my candle. I rearranged my pen in my hand and continued writing.
Tell you what,
Justin. When I die, let's go dancing in the rain.
I smiled through tears and slid my letter into an envelope.

The next day was Justin's funeral. At the last minute, my ride had to cancel because of a schedule conflict, and I was left to sit alone in my house crying. I glanced down at my letter and smiled, “How am I going to get this to you now, Justin?” I laughed through my tears and kept crying.

Sometimes strange thoughts pop into my head, as if from somewhere else. Sitting on my bed fingering a tissue, one of those thoughts told me how to get it to him.
Smoke is faster than dirt.
I was startled by this, but after thinking about it, I realized I was to burn the letter, not bury it. I cried for an hour as I carefully burned the letter. I'd burn a corner, then blow it out under the running water in the sink, afraid of the flames. Eventually, the letter was gone and the white smoke streamed from my window. I waved it away and prayed to God that Justin would someday read my words in the smoke.

That night I dreamt about death and awoke at 2:38 A.M. to hear rain tapping on my window. Rare are the visible words from heaven, but those precious raindrops were my answer. I had told Justin that I wanted to go dancing in the rain. The slow rhythm on my window told me that Justin had heard me. In that moment, I knew that he felt no pain and that we would see each other again. And on that day, we will go dancing in the rain together.

Claire Hayenga

When Tomorrow Starts Without Me

When tomorrow starts without me, and I'm not there to see; If the sun should rise and find your eyes all filled with tears for me;

I wish so much you wouldn't cry the way you did today,

While thinking of the many things we didn't get to say.

I know how much you love me, as much as I love you,

And each time you think of me, I know you'll miss me, too;

But when tomorrow starts without me, please try to understand,

That an angel came and called my name and took me by the hand,

And said my place was ready in heaven far above,

And that I'd have to leave behind all those I dearly love.

But as I turned to walk away, a tear fell from my eye,

For all my life, I'd always thought I didn't want to die.

I had so much to live for and so much yet to do,

It seemed almost impossible that I was leaving you.

I thought of all the yesterdays, the good ones and the bad,

I thought of all the love we shared and all the fun we had.

If I could relive yesterday, I thought, just for a while,

I'd say good-bye and kiss you and maybe see your smile.

But then I fully realized that this could never be,

For emptiness and memories would take the place of me.

And when I thought of worldly things that I'd miss tomorrow,

I thought of you, and when I did, my heart was filled with sorrow.

But when I walked through heaven's gates, I felt so much at home.

When God looked down and smiled at me, from His great golden throne,

He said, “This is eternity and all I've promised you,

Today for life on Earth is past but here it starts anew.

I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last,

And since each day's the same day, there's no longing for the past.

But you have been so faithful, so trusting and so true,

Though there were times you did some things you knew you shouldn't do.

But you have been forgiven and now at last you're free.

So won't you take my hand and share my life with me?”

So when tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart,

For every time you think of me, I'm right here in your heart.

David M. Romano

Wherever You Go

H
appiness is a perfume you cannot pour on
others without getting a few drops on yourself.

George Bernard Shaw

I loved Katrina right away. There was no way you couldn't. She was new to our school, but she didn't seem shy or nervous at all. She smiled at everyone, even on the first day of class. Unfortunately, we only got to enjoy that smile for the first three days of school. Our teacher informed us that Katrina had leukemia and would be in the hospital for a bone-marrow transplant. I had no idea what that was, but it sounded scary, so some of my friends and I decided to go see her in the hospital. She had just moved to a new town and didn't even get a chance to make friends with anyone yet. We wanted to keep her company. That's how we came to know Katrina and how much fun she really was.

It was a little awkward at first because we didn't know her, but when she started telling us about her hospital adventures we were all laughing, and before we knew it, we had been there for almost three hours. She told us about the kid in the room next to her who would get up and pull the fire alarm for absolutely no reason. And sure enough, while we were sitting with her, the fire alarm went off. We all laughed when nobody flinched, and the hospital staff just went about their duties like nothing was wrong. She told us how her mom would sneak in Chinese food for her. And how much she missed her animals: a pony, pigs, a ferret, a mouse, a rat, two hamsters, a cat, nine dogs, two chameleons and a snapping turtle. Later, her mom told me that her favorite thing to do was to go to the Humane Society and adopt the most ugly or abused animal. She always managed to take it home and make it beautiful.

Once she was released, we spent a lot of time together. She came over to my house, and we had many sleepovers. She had lost all her hair during her chemotherapy treatments so she was always wearing a hat of some sort to cover her head. For her first school dance, she bought this yellow hat that had blonde braids hanging down from it. She loved it. At the dance, Katrina danced all night long and never stopped. She was having the time of her life. Suddenly, she took off her yellow hat and started twirling it by the braids and throwing it into the air. I don't think I ever saw her laugh so hard.

She was hopeful that she would eventually be able to play sports again so she went out and bought some running shoes that were two sizes too big for her. She told me she'd be able to fit into them as soon as she was able to run again. Her optimism was contagious.

Soon we got the news we had all been waiting for: Her cancer was gone. The doctors told her she was in remission. She could live her life once again. She began to gain weight, which looked good on her. She had been so tiny when I first met her. Her legs and wrists had always looked so fragile. Now she was looking stronger by the day. She had always told me she hated being short, but even I was surprised when she came to school in four-inch heels one day. She was so proud of those shoes. She kept walking up to people and saying, “Finally! I'm taller than you!”

One night I came home from school to a message from Katrina on our answering machine. She told me to call her right away when I got home. It sounded like she was crying. I knew there was something seriously wrong because she never cried.

She started crying when she heard my voice. “My cancer is back,” she sobbed. They were the most terrifying four words anyone had ever said to me. I didn't know what to say. My heart felt like it stopped. She told me that her lymph glands had been getting swollen lately, so her mom took her to the doctor. When they tested her, they found out the cancer was back. We were both crying. She told me I was the first person she called because I was her closest friend. That made me cry even more. She was scared, and she didn't want to die. She told me how much fun she was having lately. I told her I was there to fight with her. There was no way I was going to let her go.

We visited her as much as we could. We gave her cards and this huge wall print that everybody at our school had signed. Her room looked like a gift shop after a while. She told me the cards and gifts really helped her to stay hopeful.

I heard that her family was having financial problems. I thought of ways that we could help them. Our whole eighth-grade class got together and came up with ideas. Our first fundraiser was a dance. At least half the high school came, and we had a donation jar there that was full by the end of the night. People paid to get in, and we found a DJ who put on the music for free. Katrina came to the dance, and she had a blast. We took the leftover baked goods we were selling there and had a bake sale the next day.

We thought of “Hats On for Katrina Day” because she always wore hats. We had the students and staff at our high school pay to wear a hat all day during school. We raised a lot of money because hats are not allowed at our school, and everybody likes to wear them. It was a huge success. We also had a whopper feed, a raffle and a basketball game between the seniors at our school and the staff. We ended up raising over $4,500 for Katrina and her family. When they found out, they were thrilled. It felt good to be able to help them.

Soon enough, Katrina was released from the hospital to her home. She was being cared for under hospice, which meant that a nurse would come out to the house to care for her because there was nothing more the hospital could do. When I heard this, I was really sad and scared. Her parents told us she had anywhere from a few weeks to a few months to live. I was in shock.

On April 5, Katrina woke up and told her mom that it was time for her to go to heaven. It was time for her suffering to finally end. She started coughing and couldn't breathe very well so her mom took her to the hospital right away. Katrina died at ten-thirty that night. Katrina had told her mom that if she didn't make it she wanted to be cremated. Her mom had asked her why, and she had said, “Because you move around a lot, and I want to go with you wherever you go.”