High School was an interesting period in my life. I didn’t have all the traditional experiences that high school provides but I had fun. Each year I hung out with a different set of friends. I was discovering myself and where I fit in. In the process, I met close, loyal friends, and also experienced relationships with not so nice friends or perhaps were not the best influences in my life, yet I loved them and understood them. Looking back I can see even at a young age that I loved people. I liked studying them in their environments, their traditions, and cultures. I lived in an air force town that was active with families transferring in and out from all over the country and world.
She was absolutely beautiful with pretty green eyes and blonde wavy hair. She was tanned, and in great shape. She had a laugh that was cute…a little nasal but still cute. She sat behind me. She would whisper funny comments in class while the teacher spoke. She was “spunky”. “She” will not be named in this post. Spunky will have to do. We became the best of friends that year. She introduced me to living life less seriously, and stressed. I was an uptight and somewhat fearful teenager after my parents’ divorce and as a result of living in a former alcoholic, tense environment. She taught me to laugh out loud…from the tummy, deeply and experience fun; abandoning all that restraint me. She taught me to pull out of my dowdiness and be more feminine and colorful. We danced and sang to Pat Benatar songs. We loved her!
Spunky had a great, open relationship with her mother…nothing was off limits to talk about. She didn’t have to feel ashamed to ask questions or share what she was feeling inside. I was from a home of secrets, image protection, and where everything was “evil” or not “nice” to talk about. Spunky and her mom became my best friends that year. I could go on and on about our antics, experiences, and wonderful memory making but I won’t. It was the dawn of the 1980s. Rebel was a new verb for me. Those memories are my past and I am thankful for the good and the bad of them. I am today a better person for what I experienced that year.
Spunky’s life changed in her senior year. Her friends changed. Her family dynamics changed. She was still beautiful as ever. We lost touch for many, many years, until the dawn of Facebook. I found her.
Spunky was still beautiful. She didn’t age and I chuckled when I saw a picture of her. She was still the sexy, blonde, girl that lit up a room. Spunky had a rough adult life and her choices were not the best. She had, however, risen from the ashes of her messy life and ironically moved to Phoenix, AZ. She studied criminology and made a career for herself. She was single and supported her children. She was happy with her accomplishments. However, she was strangely not her “spunky” self.
She and I shared a chat. She still used humor in her communication. She made me smile. She was proud of her children. She knew they were beautiful. She was tickled she had twins. She shared some bad but mostly good. She withheld answers to some of my inquiry and I respected that. She was a single parent of teen-aged children. She was proud to have come that far. She had made it. Her past was behind her. Skeletons need not make an appearance. She was strong. She was moving forward. It was our decade of liberty to be uniquely, and genuinely real, honest, and just “us” in our 40s. I couldn’t wait until our reunion. It was denied me. We never got past a couple of FB chats. “Spunky” died a mysterious death. She left behind young, then frantic teenagers who posted their fears and youthful inexperience on how to move forward.
Today is Spunky’s birthday. She would have been 52 years old. We could be celebrating our 50s together. It was 3 years ago she died this past September. Her children kept her FB page up. I see where they post on special occasions some heartfelt sentiments. Her oldest daughter posted that she is doing her best to raise the twins. She is a young girl herself.
I may never know what happened to Spunky but I know she had some church support. I hope she had a personal relationship with God. She knew who He was and she believed. I hope she kept Him close and personal to her heart.
Friends, we are in part who we are by the company we keep, as well as, the family we were raised in, our environmental exposures, along with the genes, traits, and other physiological factors. I particularly enjoyed reading it was Spunky’s birthday today. It allowed me the opportunity to review our lives together. It allowed me to see how she influenced my life and see what influences I kept and what I tossed. I am reminded that we don’t do life alone. We are connected to our “people” and we have much to be thankful for albeit good or bad.
The flip side is we are also influencing and impacting our friends and families lives. It is my hope that we…more specifically that I will love more, give more, reach out more, and share more in the positive. I want to be remembered with a smile when I am gone. Not for the pride of it, but that someone’s life was enhanced in some way, and more importantly because I showed them my heart which belongs to God.
Happy birthday, Spunky! RIP.
Dedicated to us, Spunky! (Click Here)
You are Loved, acf
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