There was a girl in this class named Faye. At this age we werent quite at the stage where the other gender has 'cooties' or any other horrible disease that we might get by touching them. Faye was someone that I always tended to gravitate towards. She had the most beautiful big blue doe eyes and long brown hair to her shoulders. Her smile was always big and genuine at an age when most kid's teeth havent quite found the right fit in their mouths. We got along famously together and would tease and taunt each other good naturedly in class and at recess. In class when we were supposed to be studying, we would look at each and make faces or if we found the other looking directly back at us, we would turn away just slightly embarassed. I enjoyed her company and I sure hoped that she enjoyed mine. I cant think of why I was so drawn to her, but she was one of those people that simply had a pesonality that made you want to be around them. At seven years old, I guess the highest compliment that could be paid was that I didnt see her as just a girl, but rather very much as a good friend.
Second grade gave way to third grade. Now in Mr Vance's room. A large man with a hearty laugh. I always thought he would make the perfect Santa himself when he aged a little more and his hair and beard would turn white or grey. Faye also happened to be in my class this year. This would make 3 out of the first 4 years of school that we were in the same class together. We took up right where we left off joking with each other and teasing. In the spring of the year, I came down with the flu pretty badly and I missed a week of school entirely. I dont remember the illness itself or specifically being off of school. I remember the morning that I went back.
I walked down the hallway to my class and as I entered the door most of the kids were up around Mr Vance's desk. Before I could get to my seat and take my coat off, one of the other girls in the class run up to me and asked me if I had heard. I had no idea what she was talking about having been in bed most of the previous week and told her so. Matter of factly then she simply said, "Faye died." She had evidently gotten ill just slightly before I got the flu. Thinking back, she was absent before my week home. Of course, I thought this person was pulling my leg. Most of the kids knew how well we got along. Evidently, she had fallen into a coma while I had been off and died the day before I returned to school. I suddenly felt violently ill to my stomach and had to sit down. I couldnt believe it. For the longest time anything that anyone said, even my teacher, was just white noise against my churning mind. I couldnt stop thinking about all of the fun that we used to have. That wonderfully open smile and the way that we would glance shyly at each other across the room. This was the first instance in my life that I actually had to deal with death on a personal level. All that I was aware of at moment was that I would never see or talk to her again. As I sat down at my desk, my stomach continued to churn and I began to feel warm again. Nothing that was being said was cutting through my reverie. As the day went on my mind wasnt focused at all on my school work. Faye's desk was just to the left of mine and I found myself looking at it continually as the day wore on imagining her sitting there as always. Later during that afternoon, I dont know what possesed me, or what was running through my mind. I went over to her desk and bending down, I peeled the masking tape with her name written on it off the front of the desk. Mr Vance was at the board with his back towards the class, but as soon as the sound of the tape coming off of the desk was heard, he turned around to see what was going on. He was rather upset both that someone interrupted his class and that I had pulled the tape off of her desk. The funny thing is that I dont remember a word that was being said. I guess I just wanted something to keep reminding me of her.
I didnt go to see her when she was laid out. I wanted all of my memories of her to be of her smiles, her laughter and the general conversations that we had over the last few years. Looking back now, some 30 years later, I can see her in my minds eye and for a few seconds I am almost that 8 year old again grinning back at her like a secret co-conspirator. I'm glad thats my memories of her. In this way at least, she still lives on.
I learned at a very early age not to take any day for granted. None of us know just how long we have here. Make the most of it when you can. Dont be afraid to tell those important to you how you feel about them. Finally, dont keep putting anything off that you ever really want to do or try. Every day that we have here is a gift, so live it to the fullest.