In the guest bedroom closet, there is an old metal box that sits on the top shelf. I purchased it for my mother many years ago at the Asheville Mall in a store called Kaleidoscopic. It originally housed stationary. I’m not sure when I assumed responsibility for said box, but it has been in my possession for a very long time.
It’s not really much to look at and I probably would never buy it now, but it certainly holds a lot of near and dear things to me from my adolescent/young adult life.
Prom invitations, pre-pubescent love letters and a smattering of other precious items fill my treasure box.
I have some awards from my short career as a tap cancer, a myriad of notes and letters from girlfriends and a compact mirror I received for my eighth grade graduation from parochial school.
I love these little bags. When I was in the sixth grade, we had a fabulous store called “My Favorite Things.” They sold things like Mrs. Grossman Stickers and Lisa Frank pencils. Remember Lisa Frank? I loved all her unicorn goodness!
I also keep in my treasure box all my Goonies trading cards. When I was in the 7th grade, my father would take me to the local 7/11 everyday and would by me a pack of cards. I was obsessed with the movie and still consider it one of my favorites.
And finally, there is a letter in my treasure box from a boy named Will. I met him when I was fourteen and a freshman in high school. He was a year ahead of me and as soon as I saw him, my heart was smitten. The thing I remember most about Will was his beautiful blue eyes. We were on the swim team together and I looked forward to practice knowing I would see him. In the spring, he played baseball and I was the team’s manager. I remember sitting in the front seat of the van, watching him from the passenger side mirror. He was from Jacksonville, North Carolina and was a boarder at the school.
Sophomore year I finally got the nerve to act on my feelings. I had it all planned out — I would send him a heart felt Valentine. So as not to give him the impression he was too special, I sent everyone in my class and a few other students Valentine’s as well. I was so excited for February to arrive and then the unthinkable happened — he was expelled from the school. My memory is a bit foggy on the details, but knowing the group he traveled with it was probably for smoking or drinking. In my eyes he was a bit of a bad boy, but in reality he was just a 16 year old kid experimenting like 16 year old kids do. I was devastated. My mother suggested I send the Valentine to his home address — I did. a few weeks later I received a reply in the mail. I cannot describe to you how my little 15 year old heart felt. Ecstatic would be an understatement. I only saw Will one other time. I was a Junior in high school and he was visiting his younger brother at the school. A community dance was coming up and I was in need of a date. Once again, I gathered my nerve and asked him to go with me. It is a moment that is indelibly marked on my brain because no sooner had I gotten the courage, then my dear old Dad walks out of a class room and asks me “What’s going on?” I was mortified! Will was sweet and had to decline. He was leaving to go home and would not be available for the dance. And that was the last I ever saw him.
Two weeks ago I found out that Will died in December. He was living in Colorado and was only 39 years old. I have not seen him since I was 16, but it still saddens me to learn of his death. According to the school he was not married and did not have any children — cause of death was not disclosed. I work in an industry where death and dying are always present — it’s different, however, when it’s your own generation. Will was certainly too young to die, but there will come a time when my peers. . . when we are the oldest living generation. When the loss of our friends will be common place. I wonder how we’ll handle it.
For now, my heart goes out to his family — his mother, father and brother. I will remember Will for his beautiful eyes, his boyish demeanor and for the simple fact that he signed his letter “love.”