Tuesday, May 8, 2012


May 8. 

Twenty-three years ago, I learned a lesson about life: it's sometimes very unfair. Sometimes it makes no sense.

On May 8, 1989, my friend Adam was walking home from Twality Junior High when he was hit by a car on Durham Road and killed.

At not-quite 13, I'd never experienced the death of someone close, not even a grandparent who was old and "supposed" to die. 

And the driver wasn't drunk - or even speeding. It was just an accident. No one to blame.

We were in seventh grade. Way too young to die. Way too young to have to deal with it.

I still have vivid memories of the next morning when I arrived at school to the news. I remember what I was wearing. I still have vivid memories of the pain and the questioning and the confusion. I still have vivid memories of cruel comments made in the halls by older students. I still have vivid memories of his memorial service held at the school.

I don't have a nice, neat little word-bow to tie around this post. It was a very hard time in my young life, and it sometimes still brings tears close to the surface to think about it.

But I wish peace and love to Adam's family. I hope they are remembering this anniversary with fond memories and not too much pain.

1 comment:

  1. Oh how I understand Liz, I unfortunately have been surrounded by death my whole life and all I can say is... each one makes it's own lasting memories both good and bad, they never get easier, at least they have not for me,I think it important to remember those we have lost, it honors them or maybe it honors the impact they had on your own life...