July 25, 2012 § 1 Comment
I was going through old pictures last night. I realized most of us joined Facebook as seniors in high school, and that if I wanted to find what I was looking for, I’d have to pull the box out from under my bed.
In that box are stacks of photos from middle school, high school, pool parties, graduation, prom. The ones I was looking for were of volleyball nights at the park on Chandler Road.
Teves was one of the best players, and I remember hating when we’d decide to play boys vs. girls. We never kept score, but the girls’ side always not-so-secretly knew we were losing to our showy counterparts. Those nights were so much of my high school experience. They were a chance to catch up outside of class with our big group of friends and to tease each other about our (again, not-so-secret) crushes on the other side of the net.
For such a great memory, I couldn’t find any photos of volleyball nights. Turns out, I never thought to take a picture, and (considering what my hair looked like in high school) it was probably for the best. Instead of posing for pictures and instagramming our snack plates, we were spending time with the people who we grew — and continue to grow — up with. Alex was one of those people.
This photo’s from a little later. I think we had gone to a party when we were all home for the summer. It was long after volleyball nights and long before we’d visit Alex in the hospital when he was in that car accident that shook us all and nearly took some of our closest friends. Everyone knows Alex gave the best hugs, and even from a hospital bed, he was much stronger than any of us would ever be.
Alex died last week when he saved his girlfriend’s life in a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado. We’ve been lucky enough to have been surrounded by incredibly smart and caring friends who’ve shared our experiences growing up. Alex was one of those friends.
And this weekend, we’ll celebrate him the way he’d want us to.
September 12, 2011 § 1 Comment
And there it was — three chicken breasts, four artichokes with balsamic, and a salad. It was the last dinner I’ll eat in the house I grew up in and probably the last time I’ll drive to Ahwatukee for a meal.
And it felt just like any other Sunday.