I always get in a funk on 2 May every year. It's the birthday of someone who was once very dear me, my high school boyfriend Henry Carl. He was the kind of guy who would run over to your house just to see you (he lived 6 miles away), cut the lawn for your dad and refuse to take any money (I always pocketed it..sorry Dad),write you love notes frequently and just always there being too nice. I was a little hard on him and not always very nice but he liked me just the same. That summer I decided that I wanted to brake up and date other guys, so we both moved on...sort of. He went to FL to get his act together and I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. He was gone for 2 months when I heard the terrible news that he was killed in a car crash...we had just spoke a week earlier and planned to see each other when he came back to Ohio in the fall. I was simply crushed... I felt so guilty ~ why wasn't I nicer to him?..why couldn't I like him the way he liked me? why did he have to go to FL to figure things out? These are the questions I ask myself every year around this time. It's been 24 years since he died but I still think about him every once in awhile but especially on his birthday. It's just so sad... a life gone too soon.
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I remember when I came into your office (we are not only related we also used to work together) and saw his name on you calendar with a sad face, I asked who he was and I'm not sure who cried harder when you told the story me or you.
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