"Tonight's The Night...we'll make history"...a blog about my best friend from high school...

“Tonight’s the Night we’ll make History…honey you and I”
Those words. They were the first words sung on a mix tape given to me by a friend of mine when I graduated high school.  A friend I had met three years earlier.  The mix tape was for me to listen to whenever I needed to remember how she felt.  It was full of great ‘friendsy’ type songs.  Best of times by Styx, Friends by Michael W. Smith, Angels by Amy Grant and more.  It was a mainstay in every car that had a tape deck in it until it was eaten in 2005. I didn’t listen to it every day…but when I did I thought of our friendship. 
I wish I had it now.
I got the news yesterday morning through IM from a mutual friend.  One of the oldest and first friends I’d ever had as an adult…and most likely one of the TRUEST…was gone.  I’d been trying to get home the last month…but things seemed to always get in the way.  One week was kids, the next was finances, the next was miscommunication and then last week I got really sick.  Not wanting to cause an infection I made the tough choice to stay home.  Obviously God was protecting me there.  No doubt…if I had gone and she passed yesterday…I’d no doubt have partially wondered if I caused it.  So I didn’t get to see her…but we did speak.  She was obviously doped up (I expected that) but it was a good talk.  We ended as we always did…”Love you Heath”…and she said “Love you too”.  That was it. The last time I would speak to one of the most influential people of my life.
It’s tough to write an essay about someone who passed.  It can come off as schmaltzy, maybe a little self-indulgent or even totally off base given the relationship of the writer to the deceased.  Yet for me writing has always been a therapy.  A way for me to share thoughts and feelings without the um’s and ‘lip sucking’ I do when I’m thinking.  I hear the words in my head using my voice and inflections and they come out through my fingers at 90 words a minute.  I’ve written this 90 different ways already in the three hours I’ve spent alone in the car the last 36 hours driving back and forth to work.  I’ve known I wanted to write SOMETHING.  So I thought I’d tell a story.
Once…about 27 years ago…there was a boy.
Now this boy wasn’t like other boys.  He wasn’t particularly athletic, or skilled with people.  He had a large head, some called it ‘wide’ or ‘football’.  He started in high school and his first year…he realized something.
He was lonely.  He had few friends and one of them thought he should join chorus in his sophomore year because as Tom told him “dude…it’s an easy A and it’s fun”.
This boy was the son of a musician and had tried out in 8th grade during the awkward voice period for choir and was rejected…so he just thought he couldn’t sing.  However again…he had one friend and so…he went for it. 
A few months later this sophomore boy was sitting in a choir room scared of his own shadow.  He’d never read music, hadn’t sang except to the radio and was naturally uncomfortable in group settings.  Now of course this would result in someone turning into himself right?  Not drawing a spectacle?
No.
This kid decided to air drum.  Because you know…why not?
So there’s this scared kid…air drumming.  Making a complete idiot of himself.  People laugh at him…and since he laughed with them he fooled himself into thinking he was in on the joke (he wasn’t). So there he was…drumming along with the music and singing.  Luckily the two guys behind him were so powerful…no one could hear him.  Again…a good thing.
So after about a week this girl sitting next to him and who’s two years older than him, a senior leans over the aisle and says “What exactly are you doing?”  She said it with such grace…saving his face and without a hint of sarcasm.  She seemed GENUINELY interested in what he was doing. 
So the boy who had noticed her a week earlier and instantly liked her as she seemed to laugh at his jokes and apparently was incredibly kind, looked over at her and with a smile simply said “Drumming…I’m a drummer…well I wanna be. “
She smiled and got this twinkle in her eye.  “Well maybe you will…but for now why not just enjoy singing.  I’m Heather by the way.”
It was in that exact moment that a lifelong friendship was formed. 
The boy seemed to become more confident.  Got better at reading music and listening to his part.  He got more confident musically and found he had a real knack for it.  The discovery would shape his entire life even becoming what he went to college for.  In the immediate months and years that followed the boy and her started talking every day in choir and out.  In fact days she wasn’t there…the boy would be distracted in choir wondering what had happened to his new friend.  They started talking on the phone almost daily.  She would tell him about her crush on a boy…(all the while failing to notice his SLIGHT crush on her) and he would listen…and at times lend advice he’d learned not from experience…but from hours reading and watching TV.  They shared experiences. She gave him confidence.  Would shoot straight with him and train him in how to be a little more adept socially…and he’d…well…he’d wonder what she got out of this friendship at all.  It seemed to be all one way…and he even asked her.  “Silly Bill” she’d say…”you’re too great not to know”. 
That was my friend Heather in a nutshell.
She had this way of making you believe you were a star…even if you only felt like you were the dirt on the ground.  She had this smile…this obnoxious laugh and these incredibly mischievous eyes that when she was in the mood to cause trouble…would be incredibly hard to argue against.  She could be warm but real.  That’s hard to pull off in this society of ADHD and kids raised on TV.  An ability to be emotive while still being real.    It can come across as hokey or disingenuous.  However Heather pulled it off.  She could be honest with you…while still making you feel like you were worth something.  She knew how to encourage you in such a way as to allow yourself to think that it’s worth taking the advice she offers…because you’re worth becoming better. 
It was that last part that really shaped my life. 
Her friendship…her love.  It saved me so many times.  There was a night when I had been to school for my first year…I had let things go too far with a different female friend who was local to Canandaigua and after promising to pick things up when we were home…I’d spent the whole summer trying to avoid the situation before deciding the last night before going back to confront it.  I went to the girl’s house and got the blasting I deserved.  Defeated, dejected and just flat out guilty…I went home and called Heather.  She took me to Perkins where we sat for hours.  I told her everything and then she gave me some great advice.  She told me that yep…I was a total jerk.  She also told me that I couldn’t help it…that the Y chromosome came with jerk like tendencies and I just had to find a way to work it out.   She also said to honor the friend’s wishes.  Give her space.  Yeah it’d be tough (she was going to be in the dorm next to mine the following semester…so we’d see each other in the dining hall etc), but she said that odds were good if I kept myself under control…that odds were the friendship would mend.  She was right.  I avoided the person…would nod at the dining hall but never get too close and would only speak when spoken to.  Finally one day in mid-November one of our mutual friends came over and said “She wants you to call her”.  This friend and I were close the rest of my time there and even now…are at least visible in each other’s lives. 
Then there was one of the worst nights of my life.  I’ve written about it previously…but the night my maternal Grandmother passed away.  Short version…my parents had to go into Rochester and I was due to work that night at Eastview so they dropped me off on the way.  We weren’t sure what the issue was.  My Grandmother had slipped into and out of a diabetic coma fairly recently and we knew it was a byproduct of her cancer.  We had hope.  Until we didn’t.  When they realized that Grandma wasn’t gonna pull out of this one…they called me.  At first they were going to come get me but I had promised my Grandmother I wouldn’t do that.  Finally my Mom suggested calling Heather.  I suggested I’d ask her to take me home and I can wait there for Betty who was out for the evening.  I phoned Heather and she was spending time with her boyfriend at the time (Bill).  I told her what was up and she immediately had Bill grab his coat and made the trip from Canandaigua to Eastview.  She was there in 30 minutes and came in to get me.  I went with them and still thinking about not being a pain I told her I just planned to have her drop me off at home.  Especially since she was home alone with Bill and I felt like the third wheel.  Bill nodded…Heather didn’t.  “No.  You’re going to go to your house, pack a bag and you are going to come back with me and Bill.  We’ve rented the Little Mermaid and would love you to join us.”  I argued…I wasn’t feeling much like being around people…but she insisted in that way Heather insisted (not listening, talking over me and finally asking a question you can’t answer like “Do you think I’d let one of my best friends sit home alone all night with his Grandmother dying 30 miles away?  Do you really think that?” ) and with that it was decided.  We got back to my house and they sent me in.  I went in and saw the light on the answering machine was flashing (For you younger readers…late in the last century we had these things in our homes called telephones.  They were wired to the wall.  Then they invented a device that answered the phone for you if you weren’t home and after waiting 20-30 seconds for the cassette tape to go where the last voices were…you could record a message.  It was called an answering machine).  The light flashing meant someone had left a message.  I cringed knowing probably what it was.  Decided against checking it and ran upstairs to pack shorts and a tee shirt and church clothes.  I came back down and hit the button.  I heard my Mom’s voice shaking “Billy…call me at Grandma’s honey”.  I knew why they wanted me to call.  I dialed the number and asked for Mom.  When my Dad’s voice came back I knew what had happened.  Meanwhile…at that moment Heather came in on her own to make sure I was ok.  She saw me crying and took the phone from me and I heard the conversation.  “Dad…it’s Heather (pause) oh I’m so sorry (pause) I can do one better.  I’m gonna take him with me to my house (pause) yeah where is she? (pause) good she’s ok there.  I’ll bring him back in the morning to talk to her (meaning my sister) (pause) Of course.  (pause) ok…see you tomorrow tell Mom I love her and I’ve got things covered here with Bill.” With that she handed me the phone and I spoke to my Dad for a bit before we left and went to the house.  They got Pizza and we sat watching the Little Mermaid but to this day…I haven’t REALLY seen it.  I was kinda in a daze and Heather just kept checking on me…making sure I was ok.  When it was time for bed she setup the couch in the sun porch and got me settled.  Finally I went to sleep.  Thing is…her and Bill…they didn’t go up to bed.  They were asleep in the living room making sure I was ok. 
There are so many other stories.  The night we ditched Adeline’s party to go hot tubbing, the time we played a joke on my parents for April Fools, the times she came out to Oswego and one night where she left me in shorts at a taco bell and I disappeared cause I was so pissed.  Our friendship flowed…but never ebbed.  We would lose touch only to find each other again.  When I had a rough patch about five years ago…she knew enough to be there but to give me space this time to work through it.  When my Mom got sick…Heather was there.  Showing up and visiting, being there at the end.   We spoke often on Facebook…but the last time I saw her was three years ago at my Mother’s ‘end of firsts’ memorial I had thrown together in Canandaigua.  Idea being that whenever a loved one dies…it starts the ‘year of firsts’.  There’s the first birthday, first Christmas, first Mother’s/Father’s day, First Thanksgiving, first 2nd of June…everything is the first of a lifetime without them.  This all culminates on the first anniversary of their death…the year of firsts is finished.  We’re now moving on.  I arranged for us to be in Canandaigua to launch torches over the lake.  Of course…no one told me that we’d have a major rain storm that day.  We didn’t get one lantern into the air.  Heather still showed up...and encouraged us to try one more time.  We did and the one went up.  A beautiful red one that sailed over the lake.  We hugged…told each other we loved each other and made plans to try to get together when I got back from taking Dad to Arizona.
We never did.
It’s a regret I’m going to carry.  During her celebration service someone mentioned that she didn’t want to burden her family with the knowledge of her relapse.  I respect that…but in a way I wish I had known that she was so sick.  I’d have tried to come home sooner.  After moving to Albany last year…I didn’t come home at all.  The three hour trip and finances being what they are I never thought it much of a priority if I’m honest.  When I heard though that things were really bad I started trying to come home.  One weekend I wasn’t able to connect with John to make sure it was ok…the next I got really sick and didn’t want to risk making Heather sick if she was fighting.  The plan was to go up the next weekend.  She passed though that next week and I couldn’t get up there.  We spoke on the phone though and had a lovely talk where we told each other how much we loved the other. 
Now John and the family are going through their ‘year of firsts’.  I’m fervently praying for them.
Heather made me feel like I was a part of her family.  She was one of the best crushes, friends, idols and heroes I’ll ever have in this life.  My world is a bit darker now for her not being in it.  She did so much for me and everyone.  She showed me what it was to be a friend and gave me so much strength and love that words typed on a mac just don’t seem to be able to convey.
I’ll always love you my friend.  I’ll think of you often and hear your laugh in my mind.  Thank you so much for the life and love you gave me. 
Now that you’re in heaven…I know you’ll ‘shine’.

Thanks for Reading.

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