On saturday we took a drive to visit Donny's, my childhood friend, grave site. He died today, the 18th. Its been seven years since the car accident. My life is so different now compared to who and what I was back then. I went to visit him because well, as much as it was to pay respect to him, it was also for me and my memories of him and myself growing up.

He used to live just down the street from me for most of my childhood in our little quaint suburban neighborhood. Reston was a much more sleepy planned community back in the 80s and 90s before the huge tech boom. In the mornings, starting from 6th grade til we stopped taking the bus in high school, he'd walk up the street, knock on my door, I'd stumble out of bed, throw some clothes on and run and catch up with him. If I ever wanted to hang out with him, I'd jump on my bike, coast out of my driveway, down the slope of our street that bended towards the left and I'd be in front of his house. When we got older, he'd drive by my house and always give two honks from his pickup to let us know he was passing by.

Now, he lives up the street from me. I get in the car, drive a block over to Georgia Ave. and drive north for a few miles and cross into Maryland, and drive til we hit the cemetary on the right hand side. Its weird to think that fate somehow put me relatively close to him after all these years. I'm the closest one living to him. His parents have moved to North Carolina, his sister is in the Virgin Islands.

We had grown apart towards the end of his life. We had a falling out during college that never healed all the way. We just became different people and had different lives. After college, we kept in touch and would get together every few weeks or when our schedules weren't too hectic. We were probably on track to becoming good friends again. Then the accident happened.

I had tried to go and visit him 2 years ago around this time and while we did find the cemetary ok, I couldn't for the life of me find his burial site. We roamed around for a good hour looking at every name on each grave site trying to find him. We couldn't even inquire at the front office since it was closed on account that it was sunday. It was a fruitless day, and I felt defeated that I was letting him down because I couldn't even find his burial site.

This time, we got there, and roamed for 10 minutes til I decided that I'd go to the front office since it was open. I didn't know what I'd feel like when we finally found the spot but when we did, I was just overcome with emotion. I guess I'm not good at dealing with grief and loss because I just started welling up. We just stood there for a good 5 or 10 minutes and just a flood of memories came coming back.

I remembered with great clarity the time around funeral. It was a testement to what kinda guy he was by the overflowing amount of people that showed up. I don't know if I'd be able to fill half of a room he had at his services. I remember seeing his body at the wake, and how lifeless he seemed. I had gone up with a couple of my friends. We kneeled next to the coffin and I told him, "Good bye Don. I always remember telling you "see ya later" everytime you left but now this will truly be the last time, so good bye." After that I broke down. I don't recall what happened to my friends, but I couldn't take it and had to leave the room.

What made me sad that most of my childhood/adolescent memories and Donny's were quite intertwined and I'd never be able to reminisce with him and talk about the old times and have that understanding of what we went through and the things we experienced. I miss my childhood friend, and I am sad that he would never have the opportunity to grow up and enjoy all the things that he should've been able to have. I miss the fact that we'll never be able to reconcile some of our issues and be the great friends we once were. He was a kind soul and good person, and willl continually be missed. Rest in peace Don.