Enver
I met him in high school, while we both worked at Wegmans. I was 16, he was 17. We would talk while we worked, and once he got transferred to Produce and I to Bulk Foods, we had to go out of our way to talk to each other. At one point it became obvious that I was going out of my way more and more, even though I tried to be non-chalant about it.
Being non-chalant only worked for so long. It was April, and my birthday was approaching. Me, being the flirt that I was, decided to act. While he was filling watermelons I told him that my birthday was coming up, and that I was pretty excited about it. After what seemed like 5 hours went by, I finally dropped the great question I'd been practicing on for a week. I sweetly asked him where he was going to take me for it! His response was better than I imagined! He smiled coyly, and asked where I'd like to go!
That birthday was one of the best I had during my teenage years.
In fact, that spring/summer was the kind that every young kid dreams about and every adult looks back on, wishing they would've savored it more.
Enver went to college later that year, and we eventually broke up. We tried many times unsuccessfully to rekindle what we had, but life went on and our paths grew further and further apart.
We kept in touch through the years, and I visited him twice in RI. I finally got to meet his Mom, and younger sister Maggie. He and his other sister Lisa showed me around Newport one weekend in 2000, and he promised that he'd come to Buffalo one more time to visit the old stomping grounds.
Enver died last year. He was 29.
I read about the horrible car crash he was in. The mangeled mess of metal didn't look at all like it was once a car, and the yellow crime scene tape sent shivers down my spine. He and his girlfriend were thrown from the car, and were pronounced DOA.
My first reaction was disbelief. He was only 29, and still had a lot of life left to live. Surely he wasn't DEAD! I hadn't had a chance to call him, to see how he was, to tell him about the baby coming in the fall. I thought of his Mom, and how she must be feeling. He was her rock, and I could not bear to think of what she had just gone through.
I wrestled with the appropriate response. I was a married woman now, and had commited my life to Jeff. Was it OK to grieve for an ex-boyfriend? Was it OK to cry and mourn the loss of youth and memories and life?
It wasn't until Jeff called me that day that I was able to finally cry. I felt comfortable enough and safe enough in my husband's presence that I could grieve however I needed to. I cried for his Mom, I cried for his sisters, I cried for myself. I remembered our times together, the sweet young love that we experienced. I cried for his life lost, cried for his girlfriend's life, too. I cried for the unfairness of it all.
Today would've been Enver's 30th birthday. Next month will be one year since his death.
Enver always used to say that I changed him for the better. That he was a better person because of meeting, then dating me. I'm certain that I can say the same. He taught me many things. He taught me about self-respect. He taught me to hold my head up high, even when the cards are stacked against me. He taught me about unconditional love. He taught me about forgiveness, and showed me tenderly what that looked like, when I was most undeserving of it.
Our time spent together was sweet, precious. I'll carry it with me always.
Being non-chalant only worked for so long. It was April, and my birthday was approaching. Me, being the flirt that I was, decided to act. While he was filling watermelons I told him that my birthday was coming up, and that I was pretty excited about it. After what seemed like 5 hours went by, I finally dropped the great question I'd been practicing on for a week. I sweetly asked him where he was going to take me for it! His response was better than I imagined! He smiled coyly, and asked where I'd like to go!
That birthday was one of the best I had during my teenage years.
In fact, that spring/summer was the kind that every young kid dreams about and every adult looks back on, wishing they would've savored it more.
Enver went to college later that year, and we eventually broke up. We tried many times unsuccessfully to rekindle what we had, but life went on and our paths grew further and further apart.
We kept in touch through the years, and I visited him twice in RI. I finally got to meet his Mom, and younger sister Maggie. He and his other sister Lisa showed me around Newport one weekend in 2000, and he promised that he'd come to Buffalo one more time to visit the old stomping grounds.
Enver died last year. He was 29.
I read about the horrible car crash he was in. The mangeled mess of metal didn't look at all like it was once a car, and the yellow crime scene tape sent shivers down my spine. He and his girlfriend were thrown from the car, and were pronounced DOA.
My first reaction was disbelief. He was only 29, and still had a lot of life left to live. Surely he wasn't DEAD! I hadn't had a chance to call him, to see how he was, to tell him about the baby coming in the fall. I thought of his Mom, and how she must be feeling. He was her rock, and I could not bear to think of what she had just gone through.
I wrestled with the appropriate response. I was a married woman now, and had commited my life to Jeff. Was it OK to grieve for an ex-boyfriend? Was it OK to cry and mourn the loss of youth and memories and life?
It wasn't until Jeff called me that day that I was able to finally cry. I felt comfortable enough and safe enough in my husband's presence that I could grieve however I needed to. I cried for his Mom, I cried for his sisters, I cried for myself. I remembered our times together, the sweet young love that we experienced. I cried for his life lost, cried for his girlfriend's life, too. I cried for the unfairness of it all.
Today would've been Enver's 30th birthday. Next month will be one year since his death.
Enver always used to say that I changed him for the better. That he was a better person because of meeting, then dating me. I'm certain that I can say the same. He taught me many things. He taught me about self-respect. He taught me to hold my head up high, even when the cards are stacked against me. He taught me about unconditional love. He taught me about forgiveness, and showed me tenderly what that looked like, when I was most undeserving of it.
Our time spent together was sweet, precious. I'll carry it with me always.
posted by Kelly | 9:06 AM
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