“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” ― Dr. Seuss
I’m pretty sure I’ve used that quote before, but it fits this post to a “T”. It’s a post created through raw emotion and memories that have faded.
This beautiful young girl was my best friend.
27 years ago yesterday (I couldn’t write this yesterday), she was ripped from our lives by a selfish sociopath. I won’t write his name here. I was going to. I was going to call him out and let the world know that HE gets to live, get married (he is), and go on.
Pam was 14 years old. She had called me before going out that night to tell me about her new stockings her mom had bought her. Her mom had to travel over an hour away to get them. They were special to go with her grade 9 prom dress. Back then, junior high was grades 7 to 9.
Her dress was black from the mid hip up, and with a gorgeous purple skirting. She was so excited. I can still remember the sound of her voice when I think of that phone call. She hung up saying she would talk to me later. She hung out with a group she normally didn’t. She never called me again…
You would think after 27 years that the pain of loss would lessen. Granted, it’s not as intense as it used to be, but I’m still sitting here crying.
Pam was intense, vivacious, confident. When she walked into a room, you knew it because she was the life of the party. She got me to hitchhike (something I had never done before), she made me step out of my comfort zone in so many ways. She was magnetic. Even though I was the oldest (I was 17 when she died), I never felt like it – she was mature beyond her years. She was rebellious. She loved her parents deeply. As much as she fought with her older sister, she loved her deeply too.
I still remember spending the night and her knocking on her bedroom wall, calling to her mom (it was morning), “Mom, can you bring me some orange juice?” Of course, her mom did. Pam knew her mom would. Her parents would have done anything for her. Her loss was too much on them all.
Everything Pam did was done with intensity and passion. We were crazy kids. We did things we shouldn’t, we were carefree, we loved life. There was 4 of us in our group of best friends. Pam, me, Gena and Rhonda. We were joined at the hips and that was that. We made nicknames for each other. Pam was Pam Pam. I was Gwembles. It’s awful, but I can’t remember what Gena and Rhonda’s were (though I’m sure they’ll remind we).
The other three of us still live. We have families, we’ve had marriages, two of us divorced, one remarried (me lol). We are still best friends.
This time of year, I often wonder how Pam would have turned out as an adult. I have no doubt that we would still be friends. But how much different would our lives had been with her in it?
We’ll never know.
Poison was her favourite band. I think she would have been devastated to know they split up. C.C. DeVille was her favourite member. She had a large poster on her ceiling over top of her bed.
This song was played at her memorial service. Even now I have a hard time listening to it.
Poison – Something To Believe In