In Loving Memory of Terry Martin

November. They say this is a month of giving, and of being thankful for what we have. For me, this is also a month of remembrance.

On Sunday, I lost someone very dear to me due to complications with diabetes. It was my friend Terry Martin. I've been having a hard time accepting it, and I'd imagine I'm not the only one. But I have something that no one else has... I have my memories.

Terry and his Mom

Terry was one of my best friends. He has been there for me since childhood when our parents worked together, and we grew up side by side. We attended the same middle school,  the same high school,  and even worked together at K-Mart. Our lifelong friendship extended beyond school and into "real life", and even stretched across the country when I joined the military, got married, and moved to Texas. No matter how far apart we were physically,  he was always in my heart and I knew I was always in his.

I started this post Monday morning. I knew that I would write it, but I didn't think it would be so hard. This is for him, and I want to get the words right... but I know he always understood what I was trying to say even when I couldn't explain. This will most likely be one of those times.

It's funny what we remember after someone is gone; the littlest things suddenly seem so big, and nothing goes in order any more. But I don't suppose you can organize things like this... your mind and heart have their own method to the madness, and all you can do is enjoy the ride. This was my ride, and so some of it might seem trivial or selfish, but it mattered to me, and that's all that really matters at all.


For me, this ride begins on a schoolbus to Colonial High School. You see, with both of the people I thought I'd know forever, we grew up together and our parents were friends, but the memories with them both begin in high school. It's like, we rediscover each other and form our own bonds before our parents remind us that we aren't coming together, but that we are reuniting after a while apart. I look forward to our next reunion, because I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about. A lifetime's worth.

I just need to take a second here to catch myself; sometimes when I think about how much longer my life might still be--that I hope it might still be--I become afraid that I might forget him. The fear doesn't last long though, because I know I could never forget someone who had such an impact on my life.

Anyways, the bus. He used to ride the same bus as I did, when he lived down the street. He would sit near the front with our friend Renee. They were the nerdiest, geekiest people on that bus... which naturally made them the only people worth talking to. Terry was part of what I looked forward to on the bus rides, because after a day of getting teased and picked on at school, I could always count on Terry to treat me like a normal person. I mean, sure, he teased me too... but always nicely, and he always made me laugh. Ah, nerds. Terry was the first computer "hacker" I knew--he could solve any technical issue and find anything on the internet. And if it didn't exist, he'd turn up with something even better. Before my brother picked up computers, Terry was my go-to-guy for anything virtual, and he taught me most of the computer skills I carry with me today, including DOSBOX and how to get torrents and what to do with an ISO.

Terry and I hung out in almost the same group in school, too. Though he would often wander the campus with some of his friends during the lunch hour (Bailey being the one he spent most of his time with), I typically stayed in one area, with the outcast nerds, (sadly) the perverted virgins, and the girls who might not have been cheerleaders or dance captains, but they were the sweetest people you'd ever meet and worth more time than I gave them. Terry and his friends would wander over to our area and hang out with us a few times a week. High school is funny that way... you get so caught up in the drama you try to avoid, that you end up creating even more drama. Terry and I had our own WORLD of drama... but hardly anyone else ever saw it unless they were really looking.

Terry loved me. So much. He told me so in high school, and that feeling never once seemed to ebb. Even when I dated idiots who treated me less than he would have, even when I got married, and even when my life had progressed beyond any hope that I would be with him. He still loved me, and always let me know that it didn't matter, because the only thing he cared about was my happiness. If I had that, then he said he could live without me. And I can't even begin to express the pain that caused me in itself, because for years I struggled with the idea of being with him, and every time I just couldn't commit to anything because he was too good of a friend, too good of a person to waste on someone like me, and because somehow my mind had securely locked him in the friendzone. How often do you hear about that happening?! I never knew it could until I felt it myself. That feeling when you know for a FACT that someone is the best match for you, and that no one in the world would ever treat you as good as they will... but no matter how much you love them, you just dont feel it the way they want you to.

Oh, but I loved him so. And I can't imagine he knew just how deeply. It might not have been the way a wife loves a husband, or even the way a sister loves a brother. It was just there, like it was meant to be. I know we weren't the only ones who saw it either. Twice (at least) I remember my dad suggesting Terry as a boyfriend, asking why not when I said no. Sorry dad, it's hard enough to explain even now, how could I have explained as a teenager?

The memories surpassed all drama. In the end, for me, nothing else matters but the incredible memories that--although they might seem like nothing--helped shape me into who I am, and it's because of Terry that I had a strong foundation to build self esteem on. I still lack in that department, but the foundation is there all the same.

Terry's High School Yearbook Photo, 11th Grade I think.

Terry and I fit together better than peanut butter and jelly. One year, as a Valentine's Day fundraiser event, the school put out a compatibility test. Take the test, submit your answers, and on Valentine's Day, you could pay $2 to get your results. Not surprisingly,  Terry and I were 98% perfect for each other. Even the best couples in school weren't that compatible! At one point I remember going through his iPod in his truck, while we were headed to Waterford Lakes, and being completely floored by the similarity to my own iPod. It might not seem important, but I know for a fact that the music on my iPod is so random and completely mixed up, between genres, years, artists, beats... no one in their right mind listens to that exact same variety of those exact same songs and types... no one, that is, except Terry. Even the most obscure songs that I think no one else even remembers or has ever heard... but if they are on my iPod, I could always say with 99% surety that they were also on his.

Looking back, I think he was better for me than I ever was for him. When I got a cell phone, Terry would text "Good morning, beautiful." Every day. When we worked together at K-Mart, when I would go on break or if I got there early, I would hang out around him until I had to work. If we were on break at the same time we'd hang out in the breakroom, and on days that I didn't feel well he would let me curl up in his lap and try to rest until break was over. I remember so many times when he would bring a gallon of water with him, because as he would say, "A gallon is only like 62 cents, and a 16 oz bottle is like 1.19... fuck that, I'm buying the gallon!" [Insert amused chuckle here.] I didn't go out much in high school, or even when I would visit after joining the Navy. But when I did, I never felt safer than the times I'd climb up into his truck. We went to McDonald's once. I honestly don't know why that sticks in my head, since I don't remember anything else from that day. We went to Waterford Lakes a few times, too. Mostly with friends. One time, we were walking through Target and I mentioned the Jelly Belly section (an entire row dedicated to individual dispensers of each flavor of Jelly Belly Jelly Beans, where you could fill a bag with whatever flavors you wanted) and Terry went and bought me a HUGE bag. He was so sweet. Even when he was angry, it was sweet. A year or so ago, I blogged about a very traumatizing assault I suffered at the hands of an ex-boyfriend during high school. Terry texted me the following day, and his anger was obvious even through a simple text. He said that if he had known at the time what Charles had done, he would have killed him. I honestly don't know if he really could have hurt anyone, but just to see him say that made me feel cared for.

I have to thank him for my selfesteem. I don't have much, but what little I have was built on his love and encouragement. He would give me this look whenever I'd put myself down, a look that seemed to combine "don't ever say that again" with "you're crazy if you think that." Somehow I think it's because of these conversations that I now say "you're crazy" (in a loving way) to people who give me compliments. He made sure I knew that he thought I was beautiful, he told me he loved me all the time, and would tell me all the things he thought I deserved. He was definitely crazy... but because of the years he spent trying to convince me I was worth something, I can look into a mirror and begin to accept who I am, and some days I even think I'm pretty. It might sound conceited or self centered,  but the idea that I'm not worthless began with him. As I said, it was the foundation my esteem builds on, and it's all thanks to him.

I still kick myself sometimes for not being with him. Mostly because I know it hurt him. No matter how much I loved him, and regardless of how many times I'd tell him that, it never changed the fact that I didn't feel the same way. I can't even describe how many nights I cried because I thought I'd never find someone as wonderful as he was, and why my heart wouldn't allow itself to feel more. That old George Strait song, You Can't Make A Heart Love Somebody, made me cry every time it came on. My cousin even tried to help me, telling me once to just go give him a hug, then to just kiss him and see where it led me. I never could get past that hug. *sigh* What's worse, is that--I believe it was right after I got married--Terry got a tattoo on his chest of a broken heart. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. I'll tell you one thing, nothing in the world makes you feel like more of a bitch than the day you realize your best friend has a broken heart, and it was your own happiness that did it. But even so, it's a pain I could not have avoided, because I would have married my husband again and again if I could do it over.

Despite the sad story that shadowed our friendship, it was a strong and fierce bond that even death cannot break. We didn't always stay in touch as often as I would have liked, but that was my fault. The time between correspondences hardly seemed to matter at all, because when we did talk again it was as if it was just a day later, and we always picked up right where we left off.

There is one memory, however... the defining moment of our friendship, that in my eyes summed up everything he was and everything he would have been. And it is on this memory that I'd like to end, because it is the strongest,  it is my favorite, and it is one of my top ten most cherished memories of my entire life.

It was an ordinary night in high school. As always on the weekends, I was walled up in my room with my laptop, staying up all hours of the night on my then-favorite websites (Neopets, Gaiaonline, and always with my AIM [messenger] window up). Terry and I often chatted throughout the night, though looking back we talked so much that I'm surprised we ever had anything to talk about! On this night, I don't remember if we had been talking about travel, or places we'd like to see, but he told me he had something to show me. He sent me a webaddress, and told me to go there and download it. It was a link to Google Earth. Now, it's changed a bit in the past 10 years, but the basis is still the same: download the program, and you have a virtual globe of the Earth that is comprised of real satellite images taken within 6 months, and you could zoom in close enough to see your house. It's an amazing program even today, so you can imagine how incredible it seemed when it first came out!

So I download this program, and through AIM Terry guides me to specific locations. We visited the Great Pyramids of Egypt and the Sphinx.  We saw the Eiffle Tower, and Stonehenge. We went to my house, then his. Easter Island. Ground Zero in New York. The middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Italy. China. Japan. We started going to random places and showing each other with the latitude and longitude. After a few hours we realized we had spent all night traveling together without ever leaving home. Laughing together, sharing in the excitement and wonder of seeing the world. When we finally went to bed, I laid there for almost another hour, just thinking. I know in part I was just caught up in the moment, and maybe it was because I was pretty geeky too, but I had also mentioned it to him earlier during our exploration. Terry had just given me the world. He knew what he did, and how sweet it was. But he wasn't thinking of that. He only thought that it would make me happy.

 

That was just who he was. The perfect summation of a classic Hollywood love story, but real and full of such sweet sorrow. Shakespeare barely comes close to inciting the range of emotion he could have had if he had known Terry. I'm so grateful to have known him, and he will always remain in my heart as my best friend, my inspiration, and the boy who loved me and gave me the world. ♥

Irreplaceable

Some things just can't be remade. Most especially the moments of our lives. They are unique, like fingerprints or zebra stripes. Of course, even experiencing these things differently, we are all still human. And all zebras are still zebras. But it's those differences that make them special; the reason we get sentimental, or the reason we look back on a memory and suddenly feel that familiar stirring of emotions that was first incited in the moment we are recalling.

We all experience much the same things in life. But what, of those things, we choose to 'take with us', to file away not only in our minds but in our hearts as well, is again unique to us, as if they are extentions of ourselves. Our memories shape who we are today, and the memories we are creating now will shape who we will be tomorrow.

There are a lot of things lately, the little things, I think, that I have found myself thinking about. Usually just before bed, when I reflect on what I did that day, and what I'd like to do when I wake. And I've come to realize... there is nothing like a cat tugging at the end of your yarn when you are trying to crochet. It's the pure joy and thrill of the chase that shines in your cat's eyes that really makes the moment. How even a cat can take advantage of the simplest things and find new and exciting uses for them.

There really is nothing like following your eldest boy into their bedroom, stopping at the doorway to pick up your youngest--who has asked so nicely to be carried to bed--only to have your eldest run back to the doorway and wait his turn to be carried to bed too (now that he knows it's an option). There is no replacement for the constant forgetfulness all day long--the pills that are taken hours behind schedule, and the cups that wait patiently on the counter to be filled, and even the bladder that screams to be emptied after countless times of getting off the couch, only to get caught up in other things--then to sit down to bed at the end of the day, and to have your mind imagine hearing a text message come into your phone, just to remind you to put it on your nightstand. There is nothing as amazingly embarrassing--which in turn becomes laughable--when you realize how much you cried during a favorite show or movie, even when there was no one around to see you that way.

There is nothing like sitting down to crochet, getting comfortable, then suddenly getting the urge to blog (thank god for tablets!). There is nothing quite like watching your kids read books to the best of their ability, and realizing that they are growing up faster than you want them to. Every time they point to a letter and get excited. Every time they sit down to an educational movie and you catch them counting the numbers on the video before they are said aloud. Really I think just watching your children grow and learn, whenever you really stop to think about the wonder that it is.

Then there's the feeling of completing a project you were working on, for me in particular that is when I finish one of my crochet pieces. Maybe a stuffed animal, a purse, or a kitchen wall mural. The knowledge that you took a simple piece of string and created something wonderful.

And of course what kind of fond memories would they be without marriage? Often times, those are the best ones. There is nothing like spending time outside while your husband works on a project and having him randomly walk over and put his coat around your shoulders because he noticed you were cold. Nothing beats walking into a room and seeing the smile sweep across his face as he tells you that you are so beautiful... even in those pajama pants and unbrushed hair.

Then there are the things you couldnt see that brighten your thoughts. Such as the excitement of a new idea, or the hope pulling you toward a new year and a fresh start. The curiosity about whether you'll ever have a daughter, and what on Earth you'd name her if you did.The sheer beauty in the scent of fresh air, and the myriad of food fantasies your mind creates when you get hungry (even when the dream of living in a house made of Subway sandwiches is shattered by the fact of a hotdog on bread).

There is so much more than just this. There are the memories you lived, and the ones you observed. Like watching your dog seem to enjoy the new sweater you knitted for her. Watching your husband sleep. Watching your children sit on the couch sharing books, getting up for a snack or a drink, and not coming back unless they also had one for their brother.

There will always be memories that, no matter how hard we fight ourselves, we cant recall. The worst of these are the ones we never had. It's a sad thing, to regret not having a memory. Especially when there's nothing you could have done to create it. For me, it lies in knowing that my brother and sisters and cousins are growing up halfway across the country, and I'm missing out.

Which of course brings me to my final point, one I'm sure has crossed your mind during this. What about the bad memories? The ones we hid away and locked deep inside? Or even the ones we wear on our sleeves, not always by choice? Sexual assault, a bad breakup, a friend's betrayal, a layoff at work... these negative memories shape us just as much as the positive ones. But I don't want to elaborate on those. The choices I've made due to my negative memories are done and over with, and it's the positive ones that will carry me forward.

Live each moment to its fullest, and at the end of the day, remember the little things... the small moments that made you smile. Because they will carry you, too, through darkness and rain, back to brighter times again. And because they are irreplaceable.