“No more your buddy,” he said to me.
I looked up at him and replied, “Yeah.”
Tears rolled down my face, but I knew she was up there doing better than she would be down here, where she might have been suffering. I just wished that it could have been different—that it wouldn’t have happened to her.
The funeral came, and hundreds of people showed up to honor my friend, who had been such a special girl, and her little sister. Then it was over, and the days went by. It has been very hard for me. At times, I still can’t believe it, and I often think that she’s just in another state but that I can’t call or write. It’s as if she will come home any day.
Two years have gone by now, and I still go to her grave and visit her and her sister. When I sit on the bench and stare at the rock on the grave with the beautiful flowers that are always fresh, I feel that Ku’ulei is with me. It’s like our “silent conversations” from the past, but without her body there. I now understand that my soul sister had to go back home.
Now I go through school without my pal, my best friend, my soul sister, my buddy, my everything. Her spirit is always by my side, in my heart and in my mind.
So hang on to the friends that you know are good and true and give them what they deserve. You never know when God will decide to take them back home.
My poem to you, Ku’ulei:
It’s been two years since you went away
I still remember that very day.
I remember that moment, that time and place
I remember trying to picture your sweet gentle face.
My whole body sank to the ground
And my world was dead, all around.
I couldn’t believe how fast this all came
I couldn’t deal with all of the pain.
We were so young, childish and carefree.
We lived our lives with joy and glee
This didn’t come into our heads
It wasn’t what was being talked about or said.
I wish we could go back to how it was
Writing each other letters, “Just Because.”
Now I am here, sad and lonely
You were my trusted friend, my one and only.
Whenever I was down and blue
I would always turn to you.
I wished this hadn’t happened, from the start.
Now the only way I can keep you is here in my heart.
I can only wait ’til it is my day to see you again
As for now . . . take care, my friend.
I LOVE YOU! GOD BLESS! R.I.P.
Ku’ulei Kauhaihao
1990–2002
Kayla K. Kurashige, 13
[EDITORS’ NOTE: For more information about how to deal with death and grief, log on to www.kidshealth.org/teen/ (keyword search: “death and grief”).]
The Five Flavors
The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.
Elisabeth Foley
In fourth grade I had four best friends. We were all as different as we could possibly be, yet we got along perfectly. One day we decided that we should be an official group. Since I love food, I thought we should be “The Five Flavors,” kind of like Baskin Robbins’s thirty-one flavors. We were all unique individuals, but together we were one sweet mix. We all came up with names for one another. I was Vanilla Bean, Samantha was Mix ’n’ Match, Leah was Shaky Sherbet, Lily was Chilly Lily and Jessica topped it all off with Sweet Sorbet. And so The Five Flavors were born. We never really told anyone else about it. Just a little something we kept to ourselves.
That year Leah decided that she wanted to have The Five Flavors sleep over for her ninth birthday party. We slept outside in a huge tent. We had a blast staying up late, eating junk food and laughing at all the stupid things we did. It was that night that we decided this should be something we do at least once a year. We decided to call it our “Tradition.”
Between fourth and sixth grade, we had Tradition more than once a year. We were all so close and felt like nothing could ever tear us apart. We would joke about having Tradition when we would be eighty years old and how we would have to put our teeth in a cup rather than brush them. Tradition was a night where we could forget all of our troubles and just have a crazy time.
Then came seventh grade. We had managed to stick by each other through the first year of middle school, but we soon realized that we had all dramatically changed by seventh grade. We weren’t the same Five Flavors that we had been three years before. We began hanging out with different groups. Despite our differences, we still had Tradition that year.
But by eighth grade, we were completely separate. We each had our own friends, opinions, teachers . . . everything. Lily’s best friend was my worst enemy. Jessica’s friends made fun of me. We all were our true selves, and we all liked it that way. However, surprisingly enough, we STILL had Tradition that year.
Next stop, high school. We were now each our own person with completely opposite personalities. We barely saw one another, and if we did, we wouldn’t even say, “Hi.” No one could have ever guessed that at one point we had been so close. The ninth-grade school year was coming to an end, and we hadn’t had Tradition yet. We had basically given up on the idea, but Leah insisted on having one. After multiple attempts to find one weekend that we were all free, Leah finally found one—the weekend of her fifteenth birthday. We all came, expecting it to be just like the first one we had had six years ago, and it was.
It was like we had never changed at all. We were all exactly the same. We all still laughed at the fact that Lily threw M&Ms in the tent, Jessica and I were still chasing each other around and fighting, Leah still yelled at us to stop screaming and Sam was still the sleeping doormat. The only thing that had changed was how little room we had in the once gigantic tent. That night you would have thought we were all still the best of friends. We were open about everything, as if nothing had changed between us. The past six years had altered the way we dressed, thought and talked, but we were still the original Five Flavors.
That night we all realized that no matter how far apart we grow, we would all have each others’ back. I learned that nothing can replace good old friends; people who to this day can make you forget about all your problems and allow you to have nothing but fun. Sure enough, after our last Tradition, we went back to our own friends, our own ways, our own lives. But we all know that we’ll be back in a year, laughing together as if we were still in fourth grade. And that’s what’s so great about a little thing we like to call Tradition.
Roxanne Gowharrizi, 14
My Friend
I’m not quite sure where to begin or where to start
All I really know is that this poem’s from my heart.
This may sound confusing—it is for me too
But I’m ready to begin this poem to you.
A tortuous winding path—life is a confusing place to be.
I want to get away from this stress and find the real me.
Why can’t I be happier? Today’s a brand-new day . . .
Yet I have thoughts and memories that don’t go away.
I think of my life, and that my problems aren’t so bad
But for some unknown reason I still feel kind of sad.
It’s tough being a preteen, sometimes it’s just a scare
I wish I had some answers. Life isn’t always fair.
Sometimes I’m just really lost and don’t know what to do.
I wonder where to go and who I can talk to.
No one really knows which thoughts I choose to share,
But even if I told them they probably wouldn’t care.
Sometimes I want to say, “Thanks for all that you’ve done,”
But the words fly from my head as quickly as they come.
I don’t know how to talk to you, to tell you how I feel
Now and then it’s so complex. Life sometimes is surreal.
You may not
always see me when I stumble, trip and fall
When tears are in my eyes and there’s no one to call.
You may not hear me when I cry in bed at night
Hoping that my worries will somehow be put right.
You may not always love me when we just don’t get along
I may screw up when I just won’t admit that I was wrong.
I’m sharing with you because I know that you really care
The friend you are to me is special, precious and rare.
Sometimes I might act joyful to camouflage my fears
But deep down inside, I want to burst right into tears.
All I need sometimes when my heart just wants to break
Is your smile and a hug. That’s what I can’t fake.
I need you, my friend, to take my hand and try
To help me mend my broken heart and be there when I cry.
I want you to be with me and walk with me on this road
To step along beside me and help me with this heavy load.
I want you to feel free—I hope I don’t ask too much
Just be there when I need you, and offer me your touch.
Some people are ashamed to cry, but I am not afraid
For crying is the way that I let out all my pain.
A friend walks in when all others walk out.
You knocked on the door when I was full of doubt.
You are an angel. You’ve helped me do what’s right,
When I had no eyes, you saved me—you were my sight.
You helped me through, without you, where would I be?
A blessing and a treasure is what you are to me.
You are a great person with good advice to lend
I just want you to know that you are a wonderful friend.
Have I changed you? You have changed me a great deal
You’ve let me be who I am and tell you how I feel.
The best thing ever was finding a friend just like you
Who listens and talks to me, you make each day seem new.
I hope you liked this poem . . . like I said from the start
This poem was written for you, from deep inside my heart.
Anna Vier, 14
NO RODEO ®
NO RODEO. © Robert Berardi. Used by permission.
Forget Him
I have always grown from my problems and challenges, from the things that don’t work out. That’s when I’ve really learned.
Carol Burnett
My friend Cristen and I both had a major crush on the same guy, Brennan. Cristen had gone to a different school, where she met him and used to chase him around. During the sixth grade, they both came to my school, and he rode on the same bus that I rode everyday. Brown hair, awesome blue eyes . . . no wonder we both liked him. Everyday at school we would obsess over him; if he looked at us, if we talked to him, whatever. I guess you see my point about the word “obsession.”
Pretty soon, I started to get to know him better. We would talk on the bus longer than usual (which meant that we spoke only about four words to each other) and that was okay for me! Finally we began talking almost every day through instant messaging, and he seemed really nice. I started to like him even more.
One day, I found out that Brennan was going out with a girl named Lisa. I was so mad—although I had no clue as to why I should be so mad. I mean, it was none of my business. Even so, I started obsessing over him even more.
Later, I found out that Lisa had dumped him because she just wanted to be friends with him. I felt like that was some of the best news I ever heard in my life! That night, on instant message, I almost asked him out but decided against it. I was only in sixth grade, and I felt like I was too young to go out with someone. Not only that, but I knew that Cristen liked him too, and I thought it would hurt Cristen if I started going out with Brennan.
One day, Brennan told me that he talked to Cristen on instant message! I decided to call her, but there was no answer. Dang, I thought. I’ll call her back later and ask her about it. About five minutes later, Cristen called me. The first thing she said to me was, “I have a boyfriend!” I laughed, thinking it was a joke, because we had joked about that before. “No seriously,” she replied to my laughter.
So I took a chance at asking her who it was. “Mark?” I asked. He was a boy who had moved in across the street from her. I figured it could be him.
“No. Guess again,” she said to me. I guessed, already knowing who it really was. I just didn’t want it to be true.
“Brennan,” I said in a flat tone.
“Yes!” she excitedly replied. I tried to act normal and be positive, but I could barely hide my disappointment.
“That’s cool. You have a boyfriend, Cris. Great.” I could hardly fake any excitement.
I later asked Brennan about it and found out that it was true—he was going out with her. He and Cristen had instant messaged each other for an hour and forty-five minutes the night before. He told her that he had liked her since kindergarten! I was furious and sad all at the same time. I went up to my room and tried not to cry.
I called Cristen later and we talked, but when she asked if I was okay about her and Brennan, I hung up on her. She didn’t call back. I really don’t know if the relationship between Brennan and Cristen will last, but meanwhile I’m trying to not have hard feelings toward Cristen since this is the first time we’ve ever experienced something like this. If Brennan had asked me out, I would have said no— because my friend liked him too. I wish that Cristen would have done that; but it was her choice, not mine.
I’ve read in teen magazines: “If you and your best friend like the same guy, you should BOTH forget him. Otherwise, someone is going to end up getting hurt when the guy you’re crushing on goes out with your friend and not you. FORGET HIM.”
I totally believe that advice and I have decided that’s what I’m going to do if the situation should ever come up again. In the end, friends will be there long after the crush is over, as long as we play by the same rules and respect each other’s feelings.
Sarah Hood, 12
Do You Remember When?
Do you remember back when we were little kids
Laughing as our hair flew wildly in the wind?
Playing all day long, talking through the night
Those were the times when everything was right.
Do you remember our very first day of school?
You were the one friend who helped me make it through.
That tough first year you were there to ease my fears
And you’ve always been there for me through all the years.
Do you remember I told you that you’re my best friend?
We promised we’d be there for the other, until the very end?
People always used to say that they never saw us apart.
Do you know that you have a special place in my heart?
Do you remember when our bond began to break?
Fights became frequent and our hearts started to ache.
Suddenly our forever friendship came to an abrupt end
When we realized it was something we couldn’t mend.
Remember when we decided to go our separate paths?
To be on our own and make friends who can’t last?
Did the loss of our friendship ever make you cry?
Feel empty or sad—or have you even wondered why?
We’ve grown older and we realize that things often change.
They don’t need to end, but they cannot stay the same.
Still, in the back of my mind this question won’t end . . .
Do you remember, or ever think about . . . when we were best friends?
Mina Radman, 11
One Is Silver and the Other Is Gold
Trouble is a sieve through which we sift our acquaintances. Those too big to pass through are our friends.
Arlene Francis
“What? We’re moving AGAIN?” I asked in disbelief after hearing my mo
ther’s “news.”