365 Days (Part 1) | ✓

76. Missing You

76. Missing You: Write about someone you miss dearly.

Anthony Taylor.

It hurts to even think about him.

I can't remember when Anthony Taylor came into my life. He was simply there, like the sun is there, and then suddenly he wasn't. He was gone.

He was my brother's best friend, and that was what he was introduced as, but he was more. He felt like family; he was family. I was as close to him as anyone. He was over at our house constantly. It was one of those relationships that are just magical in their perfection. Anthony lived down the street from us, so it was easy for him to come hang out with us. We eventually had to tell him to stop knocking -- it was unnecessary.

There were a few remarkable things about Anthony.

First, I loved with him.

It was a childish love. Yet it was no weaker for it. I loved him purely, wholly, and innocently. He was like my brother, but I can't deny I developed a crush on him. Anthony was uncommonly good looking. I never met a girl who knew him who did not also have a crush on him. That was part of Anthony's charm. I think he knew it too. Not in an arrogant way, though. He was never arrogant or prideful.

I say this is remarkable, because it is an honor if someone loves you.

Second, Anthony was kind.

There are few people who were kind like Anthony was. Oh, he had a temper, and a raging one it was too, but he was also so careful of what he said. He never once insulted anyone. I think he knew how much it hurt.

Third, Anthony was funny.

He would make us laugh so hard we would pee our pants. There was a very mischievous air to him, and he was definitely a bit of a rogue. I have never met anyone who could make me giggle with just one look.

However, there is one reason why I love Anthony Taylor and will until the day I die.

Anthony loved to flirt with my grandma, and Gram loved it too. He would greet her as "Hey, beautiful. Will you go out with me?" And she would laugh and swat at him.

A few months after Anthony moved away from us, Gram fell and broke her neck. It was a miracle in itself; she should have died or been instantly paralyzed. But Gram walked around for days after that and did all of her usual housework. See, my grandma had a progressive form of Alzheimer's disease. She never lost her memory, but she lost her ability to talk. By the time she had her accident, the only thing she could manage were croaky, sparse replies. She couldn't communicate to anyone the excruciating pain she was in. All she could say was "I hurt."

No one realized how bad she did hurt, though.

Eventually she was taken to the hospital, because she kept repeating it, and promptly committed to the ICU. Surgery was performed and in time she was given what is given what is called a halo. The ugliness of this is hidden by its name. The halo was not a beautiful angel crown. It was a big, metal black thing, that circled her head, was screwed into her skull at four places -- her temples and at the back of her head -- and came to rest on her shoulders. It was permanent. She couldn't remove it for six months.

In those six months, Anthony came to visit. For whatever reason, we had to make a trip over to my grandparents' house. I remember how we warned him that Gram was not who she used to be. He took it quietly, and we went in to their house.

With Anthony there, I saw Gram how he must. She was confined to a wheelchair, her hair thin and unkempt, her eyes glazed and her body emaciated. Even her hands... She had broken her hand along with her neck, but because her neck was so much more serious, her broken hand had never received the attention it should have, and it had curled into a gnarled claw.

My Gram had gone about her daily life, doing her usual chores of fixing meals, washing dishes... with a broken hand and a broken neck that should have killed her for three days. And she was unable to say anything.

The horror of it still strikes me. I can't imagine... Then there was the halo. You could see where it bore into her head.

What would Anthony think? How would he react? I was afraid.

I have only ever loved three boys in my life, and I am convinced by now that I have excellent choice in who I love, because Anthony was worth it. He was Anthony Taylor, and he was so worth every bit of love I could have given him and that I will give him until I die.

Anthony walked in, saw Gram without flinching, and said with a smile, "Hello, beautiful."

You would have never believed her smile. She, who was so out of it most of the time she didn't even focus on faces, smiled so wide.

That is why I love Anthony.

He is gone now. He visited briefly when I was a sophomore -- two years ago -- but I wasn't home at the time and I missed him. They told me he was going into the Navy, and that he said hi to me. We have not heard from him since.