Draft #2

Faith Ford

English 112

February 10, 2014

Outline

How Long Will They Mourn Me?

Waking up to know I had a day to plan what I was putting on my graduation cap was probably the most exciting experience I had my senior year. A big red and gold “17” with a prom queen crown right on top. Never would I have thought I would have to change that “17” to “R.I.P.” My friend Issaac Smith was murdered the night of June 16, 2013, five days before graduation. "I wish it could have been another. How long will they mourn my brother?" This is the question I ask myself all the time. The pain from grief and mourning someone is the worst pain you can feel. You feel empty, alone, confused, angry, and so much more. The experience of losing my friend this past summer taught me not to give up and wallow in the pain but to turn that pain into willpower.

I had astronomy with Mrs. Sikka for first period. Issaac was in that class with me. He would always manage to put a smile on my face that early in the morning. At one point during the semester I remember he was telling me about his problems with his father. Soon after, he would have to move to New Haven and commute daily for school in New Britain. This created many hardships for him. Waking up every morning at 4am for school wasn’t early enough to get to first period for about 3 weeks. He missed his lunch period and stayed after school to make sure all his work was caught up in that class. He would always ask me if we took notes or had homework. He was determined to graduate.

When I think about Issaac’s work ethic I get so upset. He was shot was shot over a sneaker exchange. There are many different stories to go along with the situation but a life is not worth a pair of sneakers. To know someone so motivated and ready to live life get that opportunity taken away over a pair of sneakers is disgusting.  I regret how many opportunities I have passed up because of laziness or just being ungrateful. I have the privilege to further my education meanwhile my friend who would have had the same is lying six feet under. It just makes you think about things differently. It’s terrible how something bad has to happen in order for us to appreciate things the way we’re suppose to.

Praying is something I did on a regular basis before I prayed at a vigil. When you realize you are praying for a friend who should be holding your hand during that prayer you break down. At that vigil I realized my friend was not coming back. No matter how hard I asked in my prayers I knew he was gone. I thought about the people who actually lost a son, brother, or best friend. How could a class work so hard to keep a prom promise yet still have an empty chair at graduation? I’ll never forget that vigil. Strangers crying on stranger. Even though we didn’t know each other  we all had something in common.

Everytime I tell someone where I’m from I get a certain look. “You are from New Britain? Oh.” I’ll never forget the time I wa telling someone about Issaac and the response I received was “Well you should be use to things like that happening since you are from New Britain.” I did not know exactly what to say back. I just toned them out and thought about how everyone came together and brought each other through this tragedy. We came together as a student body and a city. I remember everyone telling each other simple things like “I love you” and “Stay safe”. It was nice to know we were all in it together.

Our big day was bittersweet. Waking up to know that I was finally graduating was the best feeling I have had in my life. But the only thing that bothered me was knowing one family would not get to watch their child walk across the stage. During the ceremony Issaac’s sister wore his cap and gown and received his diploma. After the ceremony I ran to my dad to get a surpise for Issaac’s family. My mom bought a banner in memory of Issaac. It was beautiful. I kept it on my living room table so who ever wanted to sign it could. I asked everyone who signed it to give me a dollar to put in a card to go to his family. I will never forget the look on their faces when we unraveled the banner. It was a mix of comfort and pain. I could tell they loved it but wish they did not have to be in that predicament.

Hugging a father who lost his son on Father’s Day is something I can never forget. When we unraveled the banner he half smiled and looked down because he was choking back tears. He got up and embraced me. I could not say a word. He did not say thank you like Issaac’s mom kept saying over and over. The hug was overwhelming I could feel his gratitude. At that moment I realized that I am still alive and need to exceed at everything Issaac could not do, not only for him but for myself. Seeing how quick someone can be taken drove me crazy.

Issaac would not want us to be sad and mourn for too long but he would not want us to forget him. I want people to remember and the good things I have done. I want people to know I was here. Loosing Issaac was something I never expected but it opened my eyes to things I could not see before. Things such as I am someone with a future, someone who has something to offer, someone who can say “I was here.”