Well, there has been a greater emphasis on being clean, orderly and organized lately, the past few years, and this has been particularly enhanced because my girlfriend is extremely clean and keeps a very well organized life. That is something that I admire her for, and have learned a great deal from. I certainly can use lessons in that, having been rather disorganize and chaotic for far too long to justify.
In any case, there were some amazing finds. Some old writings of mine, for example (mostly, my fiction works). Some old magazines, newspapers, and articles of interest and such that I had kept, including a couple of issues of a newspaper that I contributed to around 11 years ago during a brief stint as a freelance writer. Some DVD's and music cd's. Some books that I had long ago lost track of.
And then, there was this! My old high school yearbook annex from my senior year! Why I did not simply keep it with the yearbook, I do not know. But, somehow or other, I failed to do that, and it went missing a long time ago....until yesterday.
There were some surprises inside, too. Mostly, I had wanted it again specifically for a poem, which is pictured below, and with the story behind it.
Just thought it was worth sharing!
Much to my surprise, I not only found my high school yearbook annex from my senior year, but found a picture of me that must have slipped my personal radar back when I got it. It is from my graduation, way back in the summer of 1992! A very different time!
Here's a close-up.
And here is a beautiful poem that was read to our graduating class from the mother of one of the students that would have graduated that day. But he killed himself in February of 1992, something that completely shook me up at the time. I had been looking for this poem for quite some time, and kicked myself for having lost it. As soon as I found it, I wanted to make sure to take steps never to lose it again. This poem moved me to tears at times (but not on graduation day itself, in front of so many people). I could write a hell of a lot about this, because I actually knew the kid, and was going through my own issues related to depression and, yes, being suicidal at the time. But this hardly seems like the time. It is something that I might return to someday here (in fact, I started working on it some time ago, but just never completed it). In the meantime, this poem is beautiful, and what staggered me about it is imagining the pain of the mother as she wrote this, in memory and honor of her son, and with the hope that no other mother would have to experience what she was going through. Even thinking about it now, I find myself almost tearing up. In fact, my high school class had it's share of tragedies. This kid became the first real victim when he took his own life. Another kid (a friend of his) had a suicide attempt shortly thereafter. Yet another kid was killed in a car accident when he tried to break or establish a speeding record of around 93 mph (if memory serves correctly) with about seven people in the car. He, the driver, was killed, and one of the kids was hurt seriously enough that he had to go through severe physical rehabilitation afterwards, and he made his first public appearance for our class's graduation. That kid is now a man with a family of his own, and he is the one that I went to the Pearl jam concert with in Philadelphia on October 22nd of last year (you can read the review of that show, which was posted on October 23rd, and includes some pictures). Finally, that summer, another kid was killed while sitting on the bed of a moving pickup truck. When that truck hit a bump, or a rock, or something, he was thrown off, hit his head, and never fully recovered, dying later that night. All of those incidents within a few months of one another. Yes, my class knew tragedy. And unfortunately, late last year (just a few months ago, actually), we lost another member of the class, this time a woman. She was a mother of two, and she died suddenly and unexpectedly. It might have been from a stroke, although I cannot remember exactly the reasons for it. But it saddens me deeply to think that those children of hers will grow up without their mother.
In some ways, that last one was the saddest, because she died of natural circumstances (the first high school classmate of mine that I know of where that can be said), and she left behind young and beautiful children that will never have the opportunity to know their mother better. She will be missed, too.
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