When I was 14 I had a friend. She was the first friend I would say was a kindred spirit. We had very different upbringings but our cores were so similar. We both got each other. We both had the same sense of humor. We both admired each other for who we were. We both wrote poetry. But, the situation turned tragic. I had a girlfriend who did not appreciate me being friends with another female. So, I reduced my contact with Danielle and it became a problem between us. I never thought I would lose the chance to rebuild what I may have damaged for the sake of some teenage desire.
I got home from school one day and my mom was just getting off the phone. She told me that Danielle was in the hospital. I had no idea. I was freaked. I jumped on my bike and rode from 7th Street to the Sonoma Valley Hospital. I found her in the ICU. Danielle's other best friend, Amanda, was already there. She looked fine. She was sitting up. The three of us talked and we laughed. I never managed to get an apology said in time.
Danielle coughed. She coughed. She coughed and blood started pouring out of her mouth and then it started pulsing out in streams. I ran out to get help. There was no one. The floor was empty. I ran down the hall and found a doctor coming out of the elevator. My mom later told me that he had told her that he thought I was on drugs. I told him to come help. We went. They did what they could. She had bled out from a botched tonsillectomy. I watched my best friend die. I was 14. Danielle was 14.
This experience, pain, and loss was pivotal, seminal, and inspirational for me and was and still is. It is a lesson in timelines, loyalty to self and to those you love, appreciation for what you have when you have it, and in the realization in very impregnating, concrete form that tomorrow is not guaranteed and in fact is likely not to come for many of us. This experience was written on my soul and even while writing this even 30 year later, I get tears and a choked throat.
I learned. I don't want my boys to ever have to experience what I did and especially not the regret—the missed time with someone they love. I have occasionally mentioned Danielle or told the story in part or in full. When it was applicable, I used my experience to teach my boys as best as I can the lessons I learned.
On a few of these occasions, Luz got irritated and asked my why I always talk about Danielle. I told her that I rarely talk about Danielle. I really had spoken about her only maybe 3 times the entire time Luz and I were together. But, when something happens that Luz does not like, in her mind it happens, "all the time," as she likes to say.
Then the last time I ever mentioned this experience or anything having to do with Danielle, Luz blew up at me. She screamed at me asking if I was still in love with Danielle. I had never once said I was in love with Danielle and moreover, I was 14 when Danielle and I were friends. Luz was so jealous about it. Her questioning and screaming descended into her very painful mantra of, "Get the fuck out of my life!!!" She screamed it at me and I pleaded and begged and cried and tried to negotiate for some understanding that never came. I gave up and once again waited the weeks to go by for her rage, anger, disgust, and whatever else goes on inside of her to pass or diminish enough that she would speak to me or even look at me again.
All of that because I was trying to teach my boys not to miss out on the opportunities they had with the people they loved and the people who love them.