A
memory is a recollection of a previous experience that has been engraved into
our mind. Memories can be good or bad. They can bring back feelings of joy and
happiness, or of sadness and pain. This memory is one that is bittersweet. In
this photo lying next to my computer are the smiling faces of three of my best
friends and myself. It’s of the four of us at Halloween in the fall of 2004. We
were freshman in high school who had been friends since childhood with the
exception of Nick Hamilton who didn’t come around until middle school, but that
made no difference because he was quick to fit into our group. Nick was dressed
up in his new gorilla suit, which he wore for the next three years on
Halloween, even junior year when he lost the mask. Nick was the goofiest one of
the bunch. He somehow had a country accent but he was born and raised in Naples, FL.
At the time he stood about 8 inches taller than all of us except Troy, and had this
massive growth of curls on his head, which became a hazard when I attempted to
pull off his gorilla mask that Halloween. Today he still looks the same, only a
little shorter, and with facial hair. Nevertheless he’s still one of my closest
friends.
Then there was Jon
Kalvin. The self proclaimed “gangster” in his New York Yankees beanie, baggy
jeans, and tight black shirt. He even sported a gaudy gold chain and brass
knuckles to complete his look. I remember Jon looking especially buff in his
black shirt, the side effects of freshman football and track. Jon was
definitely the smart aleck of the group. He made a remark about everything he
could and always kept us laughing. This is a trait that he still proudly
possesses and displays often. He stood about my height at the time with short,
blonde, curly locks, and the biggest smile. Jon now stands a few inches taller with
a tattoo in place where his hair used to grow (the result of winning the state
championship football game senior year) and two more on his arm. Jon is still
the one person that I can always count on to be there for me when I need a hug
or someone to cheer me up. I’m positive that he will always remain one of my
best friends.
Then there was me,
the girl of the group. That year I decided to be Cyndi Lauper. I loved how
eccentric her style was and I envied her ever changing hair color.
Unfortunately the outfit wasn’t the wisest choice. It was 90 degrees outside
with about 70% humidity, and I was wearing way too many layers. Even as a
teenage girl I was always one to be with the guys and do stupid things with
them like lighting things on fire (some of those “things” included Nick’s
driveway and possibly a few trees, as well as Nick once.) or building things
that probably weren’t safe for human use such as potato cannons or blow guns.
But they didn’t care, they thought it was cool that I was a girl but yet I loved
to do ridiculous things with them. They also seemed to like that I was always
there for advice with girls.
Last, but
certainly not least was Troy Michael Goode. Troy was dressed as… well we don’t exactly
know. My friend Samantha, who was also along with us on this adventure, helped
me come up with this costume for Troy
at the last minute. His costume consisted of: a top hat, flame pants (which
Nick’s mother had made), and a flowing white shirt. We just decided to tell
people that he was the Michael Jackson version of Romeo, which quite frankly
scared a few of the neighbors. Troy
was always the one to come up with the dumb yet ingenious ideas before anyone
else. He was a gangly kid with stick straight brown hair, and the most
intriguing eyes. His smile was one that could light up any room. He was the one
that meant the most to me.
The Picture was
taken outside of Nick’s house which was conveniently located on my street and
two streets away from Troy’s
house. We all met there, proceeded to have our little photo shoot, and then
ventured out on our Trick-or-Treating excursion. Unfortunately this would be
one of the last times that we would all be together in a photograph.
At the end of
freshman year Troy
and I decided to continue on with marching band which we had participated in
that year. Nick quit football while Jon decided to continue on with it. This is
when we began to sort of slowly drift apart. Sophomore year came around and Troy, Nick and I were
still close as ever but we rarely ever saw Jon. He was occupied with football,
track, and his wonderful girlfriend Mallory Hill. The year went on and we
continued to cause trouble and light things on fire. Then junior year started
and Troy and I
once again continued on to another season of marching band. Jon was starting on
Varsity football, which meant we got to see him play every Friday, and so did
Nick, who we could always find in the stands. I always kept in touch with nick,
but it seemed that by then Troy
was starting to hang out with new friends who were older and different then we
were. I started seeing a little less of him but we always talked and even hung
out once in a while. Jon was still sort of M.I.A. junior year but every once in
a while we would see him out and about. Finally senior year started and I was
excited for the end of our high school career. Our football team won states, I
won most musical in my senior class and I made the varsity soccer team! Troy and I even had art
class together. I started hanging out with Jon and Nick more, and to my
surprise it was just like old times. Then something terribly wrong happened,
something that I will never forget. Troy
had told me in art class that he thought he wasn’t feeling good. His glands
were swollen and he was constantly tired, he and I both thought that it could
be mono. Later that week Troy
went to see a doctor and the doctor prescribed him medication that would
hopefully get him back to normal in no time at all. Then a few days later when
I was at soccer practice his stepsister Jessica, who happens to be one of my
best friends, came up to me and said “Did you hear about troy?”Then my mind
started to freak out. “No, what happened? Is he ok?” I responded. “Well, you
know that medication that the doctor gave him? It turns out that he is severely
allergic to it. He’s in the Intensive Care Unit covered from head to toe,
inside and out with burns and blisters.” That’s when I really started to panic.
I told her to call me later and to keep me updated. Throughout that practice my
mind ran rampant. This was the one person who meant more to me than anyone
besides my own mother. He had been my best friend since kindergarten. I
realized in second grade that I liked him as more than a friend, and I loved
him ever since. It wasn’t until freshman year that he even realized this. I was
sick during that practice, but it wasn’t from dehydration or exhaustion, it was
from that feeling of emptiness which I hadn’t even begun to realize would come
from the situation. I didn’t know what I would do without him and I had always
wondered what would happen if something happen to him. This nightmare was now a
reality.
Later
that night my mom called Troy’s
mom Sally. She said that the Doctors were keeping a close eye on him and that
they wouldn’t know more until the morning. The next day at school everyone was
talking about Troy.
We were all worried and didn’t know what to do other than wait. Sally and my
mom talked the next day. Sally said that the doctors had figured out what
happened. Troy had an unknown allergy to Sulfa,
a component of the drug prescribed to Troy
for mono. The allergy and its side effects were known as Steven Johnsons
Syndrome, an illness that strikes one in a million people per year. At first
they had Troy
in a drug induced coma with his whole body in bandages, and a breathing tube.
Even his eyes were covered. Slowly he made some progress. His swelling and
blistering was going down, he was starting to talk and eat a little, and there
were no signs of infection in his lungs. That’s when the worst thing that could
ever happen occurred. It was November 8, 2007 and my soccer team had an away
game at Immokalee high school. That whole day I knew something was wrong, it’s
like I could feel it. Homecoming was 2 days away and Jon had made plans to meet
up for pictures before, so when he called me during the game I figured it was
about Homecoming. Then I received a text message from one of my friends
Johanna. The text message was the most troublesome thing I’ve ever read. It
asked “Did Troy just pass away?” I started hyperventilating. Then I called Jon.
When he answered the phone I immediately started bawling and asked him to tell
me it wasn’t true. This to my dismay was not the answer. At around 5:00 P.M.
the doctors took Troy’s parents aside and told
them that they didn’t think that Troy
would make it through the night. He passed away shortly after. I will never
forget sitting on the pavement during our game and having my friend Chelsea run
off the field because she could tell something was wrong. She too had been a
friend of Troy
and I since elementary school, as well as a few other girls on the team. We
held eachother and cried. I had never felt such pain before in my life. The
whole way home Chelsea and my friend Chanel sat with me on the bus and we held
each other’s hands and laughed and cried and told stories about Troy.
The
Next day was the worst day of my life, and I couldn’t have made it through that
day without Jon and Nick. Jon met me in the parking lot at school and just held
me for awhile. We cried a lot that day. I had never seen Nick cry until then.
Seeing two of the boys that I had grown up with, and caused mischief with,
crying over one of the most important people ever to enter our lives, was
tough. But I couldn’t have done it without them.
So
what is a memory? It is something that will stick with you for the rest of your
life, periodically marking events that will either make you smile and laugh, or
cry and hurt. Unfortunately for us someone who was in this picture, this visual
memory, can’t be here with us physically, but yet he will forever be
REMEMEBERED in our hearts and our minds as well as in this picture, and other
pictures that we will always keep with us. “But to create – that I care about.”
And so I will continue to create memories.
