LETTERS TO MY MISSING CLASSMATES

Dear Darwin: 

In fifty six years, you are the only person who ever asked me "Do you believe in God?"  I only wish I could have answered that question from my own heart instead of a response that came from being raised to have "yes" as the only answer.  We were children.  We weren't philosopher's.  I don't know why you asked me that, but I remember when you did.  I just wish I could have had a conversation with you about it.  

The years passed and people assumed an answer, so no one ever asked.  I don't want to assume people didn't care about the answer, but it was just something either assumed, or just not questioned.  It's why I value you so much.  

I was on the phone with Melanie, a fellow classmate,  this week, and we talked about you.  I told her how one question made you a significant memory in my life.  She reminded me that you died young due to a lightning strike.  I don't remember that.  The last time you show up in my collection of class pictures was Grade three.  I don't have a copy of the Grade 4 class picture because I was absent that day.  By the time Grade 5 came along, you weren't there.  

I'm sorry that the universe took you out too soon.  What "might have been" is a question often asked but never answered.  I hope you felt loved in your time on earth.  I would hope that your parents found a way to some healing after your death.  I hope your family still carries on your memory.  

Thank you Darwin.  

Ruby

P.S.  This is a blog post I wrote in my Authentic Lent blog last year.  You were on my mind then too.  "No one ever asked me... other than Darwin." 

Dear Shannon:  

Hello.  I just found out yesterday that you died two years ago from cancer.  I was on the phone with Melanie getting updates yesterday and when I asked about you, I could hear the heart ache in her voice.  She misses you and your loss was hard on her.  I liked how she described you.  "She was a tender soul." 

It's been forty-two years since my family moved from Flatrock to Alberta.  I remember seeing you once at the bus stop in Fort St. John in those years.  It must have been the weekend that my family had U-hauls out at the farm and were loading up some more stuff to haul to the farm in Alberta.  I was living in Calgary at the time.  I flew up to FSJ to connect with Dad, Mom and Jennifer to help load the U-hauls, and then I took the bus from FSJ back home.  

I told Melanie that I don't remember saying goodbye to many people before we left in 1982, but I hope I called you and said good-bye.  You were the one person who I called my "best friend" for eight years.  I don't know what that meant for you, but every girl longs for a best friend, and I didn't have many close friends that I felt I could label them with that moniker.  You have to understand, I was an insecure child with poor self-esteem.  If I did have friends, I didn't believe that they were there for me.  Maybe it was your "tender soul" that drew me to want you for a best friend.  

My Mom remembers you, because of one night.  I had invited you to our farm for an overnight, and it didn't end well.  You got homesick and Mom and Dad had to drive you back home to Clayhurst.  I can't remember how I felt that night.  Maybe I had hoped I was enough for a night to make you feel welcome and loved.  Maybe I wasn't enough that night, and maybe I wasn't enough for the rest of the years.  Maybe you were more of a dream for me than the "best friend" I wanted or could have been for you.  

We didn't keep in contact after I left.  I left Flatrock in shame because of one word on my report card...  "Failed".  I tell people that I took Grade eight twice because I liked it so much, but truth be told, it was a shameful experience for me.   Maybe it felt better for me at that time to leave you all behind.  It took years to understand that maybe there was more too it than just my lack of interest in school.  My older sister Jennifer had a lot to do with the story. I can't fault her or my parents now, but how things went down in our family explains a lot of the story.  My smarter, more athletic and musical sister shone so bright that I didn't know where I fit in.  But her presence kept pushing me along in a system that wasn't tailored for my needs.  When she was sent to boarding school in Saskatchewan, I was alone.  I didn't have my motivation to push me along.  Grade Seven was hard and Grade Eight was harder.  

It's hard to know now how I would have fared if I had someone who believed in me, but the school system wasn't set up for that.  We were marched into a classroom and asked to assimilate to the program.  Our Grade One teacher, Mrs Dickson, had a job to do, and it wasn't to babysit our emotions.  I came along after my super sister, and all she could see was what I could be if I was just "more like my sister".  She didn't have training in birth order and didn't understand that the second one isn't the first one.  

Looking back, I can understand, maybe explain, but more important, forgive those people that maybe didn't know better.  Maybe that is all I get to do know is forgive.  Forgive my parents, forgive my sister, forgive my first grade teacher, forgive the program, forgive, forgive, forgive... and move along life's highway.  Now I get to learn, enjoy life, reconnect with people and enjoy them all over again.  How precious is that.  I just had hoped I could have one more moment with you to let you know how special you were to me back then.  Even if you couldn't stay the night.  

One last wish for you, my friend... 

May the stars where you came from embrace your energy once again.  May your family and friends remember you with fondness.  May you continue to live on in their memories.  May our time together on this planet be a blessing to me and may I feel like I am a better person for having you in my life, if only for a short time during childhood.  

Rest Easy, dear friend.  

Ruby 

"A piece of my heart is now a star in the sky". Author Unknown