I drive through the McDonalds drive through with a small list of my daughter’s demands when my Facebook messenger buzzes. I glance down. It’s a blast from the past. A girl that I haven’t spoken to in 15 years. Her message reads, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“?,” I respond.
“You don’t know, Kelly died. I thought you would have known. I’m so sorry.”
The world around me stops and I pull my car over to catch my breath. This is my friend since 10th grade.
Kelly and I met in our high school science class when she sat next to me. With long blonde hair, a slim figure and great rock star makeup, she was absolutely beautiful, and I thought she would be one of those girls with an attitude. Suddenly, she asked if I had a cigarette. I did. We became fast friends.
I soon learned that Kelly was smart, outspoken and had a crazy sense of humor. One time I asked her to set me up with her boyfriend’s extremely hot brother. As we were on our way to meet them she turned to me and said, “I have something to tell you, he’s deaf.”
“Can he hear me?” It was the most ridiculous response. Maybe I was the one that was hard of hearing.
“He’s deaf!” she reiterated. Regardless, we had a great time and she went out of her way to help us communicate. That was Kelly, she was kind to everyone.
Unfortunately, life happened and we lost touch over the years. Eventually, we reconnected on Facebook and picked up where we left off.
“When we meet Marilyn Manson we’ll just share him,” we joked. “We can become sister wives!” Kelly and I have always had an affinity for Marilyn Manson.
But, it wasn’t just fun and games. During the worst break up of my life, I shared my sadness and heartbreak with her and other friends.
“You will always have me, sister wife – along with Marilyn Manson,” she said. She was an amazing friend.
“I love you,” I responded.
“I love you too, boo.”
I didn’t know at the time those were the last words we would share with one another. An “I love you” on Facebook. Those are the last words I have left of Kelly. That, her shout out to her girls, and all of her words of encouragement during the worst period of my life.
“You’ll always have me and Marilyn Manson.”
“I love you.”
“Where are my PA girls at, show me some love!”
“I’m right here, girl, and I love you to pieces.” I’d always reply. And I always will be, Kelly.
11/28/1980 – 03/18/2016