ithinkminh

The sky is gray, the wind is still, there’s fresh snow on the ground.  2075, I will be 90 years old and dead.  I don’t often think about when I’m going to die, or the method of my death.  What I do bring up frequently is ‘the list.’  The list of people who will be there, all that remains in the final weeks, days, minutes, love and relationship. 

When my family moved to the United States, March 1994, my whole world as I knew was uprooted.  I was like the daffodil that got blown around the world and landed in small, quaint, cozy, Nebraska.  I vaguely remember my childhood friends up until I was 8, but those memories have slowly corroded by time and space.  The list won’t include any of those people. 

I first started learning English in the 3rd grade.  There were people that wanted to be my friends because I was weird, new, and interesting.  One person really stood out, his name is Corey. We looked similar, had similar boyish interest.  He had that gentleness and happiness about him.  I remember the times when I came over to visit, he would feed me rice with milk and cinnamon.  He thought I would like it, I didn’t.  We played basketball, I wasn’t very good.  Thinking back I don’t really know him all that well, he’s but a figment of my imagination of the perfect childhood friend.  We grew apart as Junior High approached, I wasn’t one of the cool kids anymore.  I couldn’t keep up with the trends, the clothes, the bleached hairs, the skater punk rock.  I was stuck in my own little world of teenage angst and family issues.  Before you know it, Corey was out of my life, I have no idea what has happened to him, I hear unconfirmed tragic rumors.  He and I are not the same person we once were, but I bet we could still reconnect.  I wished I had stayed in touch with him, I don’t know if he’ll be at my funeral. 

My longest continuous friendship is with Muriel.  It was around the 3rd grade that she would chase me around the playground and make me sing.  I was terrified, I thought she was weird.  We shared many common interest in drama, music, challenging classes.  We spent a lot of time together on special projects, I guess that was the basis of our friendship.  We were friends, partners, and competitors.  The long hours working on the History Day Competition project, researching, perfecting, practicing.  We got second place.  We were young, stupid, we built entire mockup cities out of cardboard and foam with sharp objects, and toxic fume spray paints.  We didn’t even place for that challenge.  Beyond school work, we did have an emotional connection.  At one point, I was the subject of a love triangle.  Muriel and I dated for a long while.  We didn’t do anything physical,  I was confused, scared, anxious, mortified.  I ended our relationship, I told her I was gay.  I remember still it was awkward, she hugged me, we didn’t talk for a while after that.  Throughout high school, we remained great friends.  We even went to Prom, dinner, danced, and kissed.  I wished that we were closer, talked more deeply, invested more time into each other’s life.  For what it’s worth,  it’s still an evolving friendship and one that I will work to keep.  She’ll be at my funeral. 

The many people that I have let into my life during college, volunteer groups, neighbors, coworkers, exes.  Will they be there to support me, will they be there to encourage me, will they be there to bail me out, will they be there to share life experiences and make new memories with me?  Will they still be alive, will they remember me?  What about all of the relationships that I have yet to encounter.  I don’t want to be on my death bed wishing that I had stayed in touch.  Today, I’m committed to developing, nurturing, and growing these personal connections.  It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.