Close To Home
Things that happen in the neighborhood happen pretty close to home.
I remember the first girl I liked. Her name was Mary. We were third and fourth grade together. She was a smart girl. How smart was she? I'm glad you asked, I'll be happy to tell you. She was smart enough to be moved up to the next grade and not look back. I always thought she was nice. She's probably a rocket-brain surgeon or something today.
My kids had to say goodbye to a couple friends this week. The Day had been coming for a while. Everybody knew that, a few weeks after the end of the school year they would be moving. Still, it's not easy.
Friday was a pretty hard day to say goodbye. My boy had to say goodbye to probably the first girl he really liked. Time will tell what the future holds. After saying goodbye, we heard that another friend had been stabbed to death over in the parking lot at Domino's.
I knew the kid. His name was Jose. I didn't have a front row seat to his every day story. I wasn't even in the cheap seats... or even the nose bleed seats. If he was playing on the field at Wrigley, I was sitting on the roof just behind the center field bleachers. Once or twice I dropped him off at his job at McDonald's. He hit me up for a ride a couple times to Cinemagic and Chateau Theaters. This was a while back. I hadn't seen him in a few months.
But all hearts hurt and ache saying goodbye. No matter for how long. Whether it's coming home from camp or a sleepover, a friend that moves away, or when a friend dies.