Foreword of the Book I Will One Day Publish

K ya, so I know I just posted on here a couple hours ago. Today has been a rather trying day. Let me rephrase that...today has been a rather snotty day! I mean that literally and not in the sense of a behavior of some high and mighty. All at once the pressures of the world came crashing down and all my weaknesses, shortcomings, and flaws came stampeding to the surface. I have been laying (lying?...Jenna) in my bed for hours now trying to fall asleep so that I may enter into some sort of peace of mind. Now, I do not have the gift of writing that my darling, amazing, and beloved sister has, but I do find it therapeutic to sit down and write when thoughts are racing through my head.



So, in my therapy session tonight I am going way back into my past to bring to light some fun memories and some sad that I feel have contributed to making me the person I am today.



I was born the 4th of 6 children. I have 2 older sisters, 1 older brother, and 2 younger brothers. My oldest sister is 8 years my senior and my other sister is 4 years my senior. My brothers and I are all very close in age, and growing up they were my best friends. My sisters loved me, but let's face it, I was just a snot nosed, whiney little sister who more than likely wrecked all their treasures. The result from this lack of female companionship and primary male companionship resulted in an uncanny ability to make friends with the opposite sex. Thus, my first childhood friends, outside of my brothers and their friends, were boys. There were 2 boys in particular that I was very close with. One of those boys was Clayton.



This is my story with Clayton: We first met in kindergarten. I will be truly honest and admit that he was also my first schoolgirl crush. Clayton and I and our other companion used to get into all sorts of trouble. I never got punished for it though...perhaps it was my doey eyes and winning charm, or simply the fact that I was a girl and it was much easier to punish the boys. Either way those boys got the worst of it. I would get sent to my desk while they would get booted into the corner or pulled down the hall by their ears. Hoagie Day seemed to be the worst! Anyways, we were very close and even after I started getting some girl friends around grades 2 and 3 we remained inseparable.



On September 7, 1992 we returned home late from a trip to my grandma's house. It seemed that the moment we walked in the door the phone rang and my mom went to get it. Now, my usual custom on returning from my grandma's was to put my knees on one set of stairs and my chin on another set and fall asleep. On this night though I was somehow awake and went up to my room and put on my nightgown. As I was just about dressed for my bed my mom came in the room and said that it was my "aunt Bev" who had called. She then proceeded to tell me that Clayton had been killed in a hunting accident. I don't remember a whole lot that night other than balling into my mother's shoulder. Clayton would have turned 10 in three days. His birthday present was to be a new pair of cowboy boots. He still got the boots but they were instead used as vases on top of his casket.



At this point you may be wondering how this is therapeutic. This is how: I was 9 years old at the time and my best friend had just been killed in a very tragic accident. The experiences of the young are carried with them forever and help form who they will become. This particular experience had a tremendous effect on an already overlysensitive child. To this day this incident brings tears to my eyes and snot to my nose. If only you could see me right now! Also, I learned the gift of life at a young age and how fragile it is. I was left with this idea that we need to be good to everyone becuase who knows what will happen to us or to them tomorrow. I feel much deeper than I believe I would have, but I also have a deep sense of a life beyond this one. The idea of a life beyond this one has always frightened me to the point that I have tried extra hard to make sure I didn't end up in a hot, fiery, dungeon somewhere.



So, if you ever wonder why I feel more than I should emotionally or expect more of myself than possible the above is why. These are not negative things!!! I would not be who I am now if not for this. I will never forget my friend and I always be grateful to him for shaping me into who I am. For it is not the easy things in life that help us develop, but it the hard and the rough times that polish us and smooth our edges. Without them we could not be turned into the priceless jewels that we are.



Finally, in honor of my friend I continue to visit him on his birthday every year. However, this year I was quite ill and have not been able to get out there yet. In an act of remembrance and gratitude for not only his friendship but also for his continuing contribution to my life I carry him with me always...tucked right behind my ear.


Love love!