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.