In Loving Memory

The following songs describe parts of me:

This one describes how I feel about my husband pretty well.

The darker parts of me identify with this one.

There is one small part of me that adores this song.

And this one always reminds me of Brittany Callahan.

Who is Brittany Callahan? Well, sadly, it's who was Brittany Callahan. It's been just over 10 years since she died. I was just barely 16 and she was just barely 17. I met her when I was either 13 or 14 (I think...that timeframe runs together in my mind) at a church we decided as a family to start attending. I was painfully shy and she understood that. I started attending youth group with my brother and that's how I got to know her as  a person. There were a few sub-groups within the youth group. There was the goth group, the popular American Eagle-wearing group, the misfits, and then there was Brittany. She wasn't part of any one group; she was part of every group. She had a talent for befriending the shy and the unloved. She also had a huge crush on my brother (what girl friend of mine DIDN'T have a crush on my brother??) and tried to go out with him several times (LOL). Most of my family found her to be annoying because she called all the time, but she is one of few people I never stop thinking about, ten years later. Maybe she was annoying at times, but she made a huge impact on my life, simply by being my friend and loving me for who I am. She was one of the first friends I had who really, truly was my friend. She didn't have any under-handed agendas, she didn't use me to get to my stuff (what stuff? Her family was much better off than mine), she simply wanted to be my friend. 

She had a condition called aplastic anemia, which means her bone marrow didn't produce enough blood to replace old blood cells. And that's any of the blood cell types. It was a very painful experience for her; I can't tell you how often we'd talk on the phone and she'd be telling me her back hurt from her latest bone marrow transplant. Brittany was awesome at keeping her head up and enjoying her life despite this issue. We spent hours together working on make up, nail polish, lighting candles, walking in the park next to her older sister's house, eating dinner with her family, talking about boys and trying to figure out love. She always had the inside scoop on the youth group drama, informing me on which boys are worth getting to know and which ones were players. 

A month and a half after I turned 16, I saw Brittany at church and she was VERY excited! She told me she was going to start chemotherapy in few days because she is finally healthy enough to do it. One of the things with aplastic anemia is that many cases are diagnosed with either no cause or an autoimmune disease where the body is attacking the bone marrow for no apparent reason. Brittany's case was diagnosed as the most likely the latter one. The bone marrow transplants would help for a few months and in the meantime, they had her on all kinds of medications to suppress her immune system so it wouldn't attack itself. As you can imagine, she was sick with all kinds of illnesses, and they were constantly keeping her family and doctors in upheaval. For her to be healthy enough to start chemo, it was almost like a lucky break. She was glowing! Great skin color, she seemed to have the sparkle back in her eyes and she was so damn happy. She asked me to come see her in the hospital. I promised I would.

That was the last time I saw her.

Brittany started chemo the next day. There was one caravan of teens from church that visited her a few days after her first round of chemo, and since I happened to be in the wrong place a the wrong time, nobody would come get me to take me with them and I couldn't get anyone to drive me (I didn't take driver's ed until  July that year). I will always feel bitter about the fact that nobody would come get me that day; a few days later she was dead. I had broken my promise to visit her and it would be years before I was able to reconcile that with myself. 

Her funeral was held at the church we attended together. I didn't start crying until we pulled into the parking lot and I saw the hearse. I didn't stop crying for several hours. The ceremony was beautiful and it was an open casket, although I could not even function enough to consider seeing her in there. I was already making a scene as it was and I couldn't bear the thought of seeing her like that. My mom suggested I stay in my seat and remember her the way I saw her on that bright and sunny Sunday morning. I think that was very good advice. I couldn't bear to go to the burial and I think my parents were okay with that. I remember my dad glancing at me in the rear-view mirror with serious concern on his face. I went to bed when we got home and more or less passed out from exhaustion. The seniors were graduating from my high school later that day and I wanted to be there to support my friends. It was harder than I thought to make the transition to the celebration of 300 high school seniors moving on with their lives; I think I was so traumatized that I repressed the entire thing until after the graduation. My mom gave me one of her Maxalts (for migranes) to take the edge off of the nasty migrane this tragedy had incurred, and that's mostly what got me through the rest of the day. I remember trying to push back the thought of how unfair it was that 300 graduates could continue their lives while Brittany's was so short. I spent the summer in quiet reflection, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened and how to deal with it in a way that wasn't harmful to myself. 

She was intelligent, beautiful, hilarious, caring, and I've never met anyone like her since then. Sometimes I feel like, if people who go to heaven can see us, that she's there, rooting for me. Often I complain that I feel like I'm having trouble making friends, or I feel like I'm missing a best girl friend in my life, and then I realize that this is exactly what Brittany was to me. I was extremely blessed to have ever have even known who she was. She enriched my life and lead by example, and I hope that someday, when it's my turn, someone will remember me with such life and vigor as I remember her. 

So, in loving memory of Brittany, I will post the song they played at her funeral along with a Tweety Bird icon (her favorite cartoon). It has been just over 10 years, and I still miss you.