Kate Hayfield

I first experienced loss in 7th grade, a fellow classmate and good friend. And I miss Barry terribly. I ran into his mom at Kohls awhile back and have kept in touch off and on since. I think of him whenever a plane passes by.

While in college, I came to know death on an almost annual basis. Damon wrecked his motorcycle in Miami; Larry was brutally murdered; Sean, Shaun, and Chris ran a stop sign; a pickup truck pulled out in front of Andy on his dad's birthday; Adam fell off the back of a pickup riding back to the dorms from football practice.

Each time, I remember thinking: "Well, it's that time of year again."

After college, Josh was found 7 days after ODing in his van. I met the mother of a veteran my husband was friends with while she put flowers at Ben's grave. I learned of Scott's passing three years after the fact while reading a memorial in the paper. My cousin Billy lost control of his motorcycle.

I found the graves of Steve's little sister, my next door neighbor Fred, and Mrs. Bloomfield while making my rounds through Maple Grove Cemetery.

My attitude about death was one of numbness and "we all gotta go sometime." I saw my role as the silent memory keeper, always leaving daisies or pennies just so parents who visit know their son's are not forgotten. And my daisy bundles grow each year.

And then the downtown fire happened in 2006, claiming three lives, including Kris, who was loved by all. I watched my dear friend Jason weep, which made my heart hurt so much more. It was always OK to be sad by myself, but I couldn't bear seeing Jason in such emotional pain.

Then the call came from Jason the next November that Andrew was in the hospital in Jacksonville. As Jay headed to the office on that Saturday, he said he'd keep us posted. I remember thinking how I didn't want to see Jay weep again, not to mention how my husband, Jon, would handle it. When Jay called back, all he got out was "he's gone." And I wept for Andrew, for me, for Jon, for Jay, for everyone. It was soccer tournament weekend and we had a game to go to. Jon had never experienced such loss and I didn't know how to help him. I still don't. I visit Andrew each tournament season before the game and bring extra flowers to Jon who lays a soccer scarf on the sideline. And we hold hands on the bench and quietly sob as the kids walk by.

I experienced witnessing teenagers go through the same grief as I have come to know the following summer around July 4th weekend. A dump truck entered the highway from a construction site without stopping, colliding with three of our kids in the early morning hours. Casey called me as his car passed me on my way to work. He was on his way to St. V's where Cody hadn't made it, Kera wasn't going to make it, and Jordy was recovering. I called Jon and met him there. The majority of Riverdale students and parents were there. Jordy was released with a broken collarbone. Kera hung on long enough to provide life for others. And I wept for the grief of all those kids. Flowers hand arrainged for each viewing. Cody's jersey framed. Jon spoke at the memorial service and I supported him. And then he spoke of Andrew and my heart just broke. "Do not go gently into that good night."

Last May my second cousin, Jennifer, died of migraine medicine. I can't even remember if I ever met her. My mom forgot to tell me the news because she didn't want to tell me on my birthday. I missed the funeral and never showed support for her parents, whom I love dearly. I plan on sending them a dream catcher... it's all I know that will be sincere (I made them one years ago).

So there you have it. I keep track of friends and dates in my sketchbook, but am unable to keep count in my head anymore. My heart broke and mended itself in order to be able to be there for Jon, Jason, students.... Or so I tell myself. In reality, it's more like my mended heart got a snag which has slowly been unraveling. And that's why I'm starting my garden - to 'sow' it shut again so I may prepare for the next time of sorrow. I don't know if I will ever make an actual 'memorial page' per se, but I will stop in periodically to add candles or whatnot.

And once again I've watched my Riverdale families mourn the loss of 17 year olds.

Chase took his own life after showing others his happy, loving, full of life side.... so that he would be remembered as such. "How do you get so lonely?" The Junior Class Vice President position became vacant, as did his spot on stage for showchoir. He's from my favorite soccer family - a family I always knew was strong, but hate to see their grief. And Jon took it so hard because he was supposed to keep an eye on him - which he did - and Chase appeared so positive.

And sweet Mindi missed a curve in the early morning hours on her way home to spend Mother's Day at church with her mom after attending a neighboring school's prom. Head cheerleader, Junior Class President, a mentor to all the cheerleading teams - they all showed up to her visitation or funeral in their uniforms. Jon's simple statement: "She's the student that you couldn't help but like."

And I ask myself how much more can these kids possibly handle? How many more tears can they shed? How many more wrinkles can Jon add to his face?

Travis - the kid from the neighborhood who always made me smile. I found out this weekend (5/23/09 - two days before my birthday) that he's gone, too. The red head neighbor kid, Andrew, told me his skater buddy had passed away. What an adult-sounding the phrase "passed away" sounds coming from a 13 year old. Yes, Travis with the green hair and baggy, black clothes who used to walk down the alley next to my house and always stopped to say hello as I gardened. He was even able to talk me into bumming him a smoke, but only because he'd had such a bad day. I hadn't seen him for at least a year - he moved to Defiance. And that's where he died while hopping a train. Who knew that a kid with green hair would have made such a positive impression on my life.

To whomever may read these thoughts: thank you
To whomever may know my friends: I miss them, too