Memory Lane
This is a place where my memories take shape...sad, happy, bittersweet, whatever...they're all here... Tragically, our story ended in death; screaming, blood, tears, metal folding, rolling, flipping, gasping, promises and then, nothing. Fighting...driving too fast...losing sight of the important stuff...drunk driver...shattered dreams, shattered lives, shattered...hearts. Bryan and I were hit, head on, by a drunk driver, after we'd been fighting, after we'd said things never to be taken back, after forgetting that...I loved him.
My mother died in 2000 from melanoma, a skin cancer caused from overexposure to the sun. She would have been 52 that year, but she'd lived the life of a woman twice her age. She was always on the go, always doing some project or another, always never there. And I know that sounds harsh, but...it's true. She and my father got divorced when I was about 9. My dad took me for a walk and explained what was happening; my mother called and said she was sorry and then said she thought I'd be better off with my dad. She was right, but that didn't make the fact that she'd left any easier to handle. But...so as not to make you think she was a completely terrible woman, my mother was a good woman, too; a good friend to those in her circle, a good mother to those of my siblings with whom she got along, and a good wife to my step-father. She wasn't a saint, she wasn't a fallen angel, she just...was.
Ahh, the memories...So many of them...some sad, some not, but mostly just memories...
Possibly the most important memory that pretty well defines who I am would be the memory of Bryan...Bryan was the best friend any girl, hell, any person could ask for...he was four years older than me, but most of my friends have always been older than me, that was nothing new...My father hated him, simply for the reason that he thought Bryan was a bad influence on me and that I was doing nothing but getting in trouble while out with him. True, I was young at the time, but I wasn't gettin' in trouble. I was getting into more trouble when I wasn't with him, than when I was with him. He was, without a doubt, the love of my life; brother, best friend, most important person in my life. He meant more to me than anyone, he did more for me than anyone had ever done, he taught me more about life than I could've ever learned from just living it. He told me once..."You've gotta live life for you and those you love, for if you don't, you're cheating yourself and those in your heart." I miss him, more now than before, but less than tomorrow, and much less than forever.