Trying to learn from what's behind you & never knowing what's in store

The other day I posted a song by Garth Brooks.  He is definitely one artist I would enjoy seeing in concert.  His shows, that I have seen on TV, always seem so dynamic and full of energy.  I also enjoy getting lost in his songs.  From the ominous and dramatic “The Thunder Rolls” to the sentimental “The Dance”, it is easy to get swept up by the lyrics and moving beats.  However, it is one song in particular of Garth’s that brings back memories of a childhood friend.  Brian has been gone longer than the sixteen years he was on this Earth.  My twin and I met him in the late 80s when we became classmates with him in 2^nd grade at Holy Family School.  Our class of ten students (7 boys & 3 girls) made for a small close-knit family type of atmosphere in our primary grades.  Once we entered junior high school, with the boys going to the local Catholic high school and us three girls going to the neighborhood public high school, we drifted apart but thanks to my twin going to Cardinal Brennan, I was still able to see my former classmates at various academic events over the years.  

When we were 16 years old, working at our after school jobs, finding our niche through participating in extracurricular activities, and just beginning to date, Brian’s life ended one Sunday afternoon in late November.  He had been on his way to Reading with his girlfriend when his car crashed and he died.  I was at work, closing up Subway, with a family friend who also worked at Subway when my Dad showed up a few minutes early to pick me up from work.  I remember looking up in surprise to see my father’s tall frame fill the doorway earlier than we expected in the darkened sandwich shop.  I had been scrubbing the white sandwich board and talking with Heather when Dad came in the building.  His usual upbeat joking manner was replaced by a somber and quiet demeanor.  With wet rag in hand and my Subway visor slipping into my eyes, shock washed over me as Dad asked, “Did you hear about Brian?”and then shared the story with me.  I was grateful Dad was there to take me home when we had closed the store but could not wait to get home to my twin.  When we got home a few short minutes later, Mark and I sat in stunned silence and simply couldn’t believe this charming smart boy we had known since we were 7 years old was no longer with us.  From walking home from school on the other end of town to preparing for the Pottsville Republican Spelling Bee in 6^th grade to saying hi to each other when making the loops at the Mall on Friday and Saturday nights, we had just taken for granted that we would always see each other.  For many of us, this was the first up close and personal experience with death and the fact that it had happened to someone with such a promising and bright future ahead of him seemed especially unbelieveable.

My last memory of Brian is from a few days prior to the accident when the junior class held their Blessing of the Rings ceremony.  I remember a moment of humor when Ms. Wufsus, the English teacher who had been in charge of pushing the play button on the CD player, accidentally played Garth Brooks’ rowdy song, “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places” instead of the intended song for this rite of passage, “The River”.  I remember Brian winking before“jamming out” to Garth’s song during what was supposed to be a serious ceremony.  To this day, hearing Garth’s distinctive voice reminds me of a happier time when we had our futures ahead of us and hadn’t been touched by death yet.  Last night was my 15 year high school reunion (what, when did that happen?!) in Pennsylvania.  Even though I was in Delaware with a different family friend my brothers and I have known since we were in elementary school, I couldn’t help but think that when Cardinal Brennan has their reunion, one less person will be able to attend.  To all those who are reading this..please lift Brian up in prayer, and his parents, as they had lost their only child on that November Sunday so many years ago.