COLUMN: Ensure a present with those of the past

From Kieram Darcy's, "From Downtown," Fall '98 From Kieram Darcy's, "From Downtown," Fall '98The kid bought me my first pack of Garbage Pail Kids. Most undergraduates today must remember those infamous sticker cards from their early childhood -- those coveted cards filled with pictures of cartoon kids in gruesome poses, with such adorable names as "Boozin' Bruce" and "Ray Decay." They were priceless to a typical six to 10-year-old in the mid-80s. And I was typical?and they were priceless?when I was in third grade. My mother's eyes, however, were clouded by the imaginative names and pictures on the cards. She couldn't look beyond the exteriors to see their true value. Packs were running at about 50 cents, which was a lot of money in those days. All the kids were preoccupied with the daily trading at school. The market opened early during snacktime, then was halted until trading became fast and furious during lunch and recess. And it killed me to be on the outside looking in. One day in school, Jeff handed me an unopened pack of cards. He smiled, went back and got his own collection, and off we went to the back of the room, the "Wall Street" of our classroom. We never spoke about that gift. And, of course, they were carefully hidden from my mother. But we soon became the best of friends, and I never forgot that day. Time seems to fly by faster and faster as we grow older and near the end of our "school days." You look back, and already life seems to be broken up into stages: Grammar school, high school, college, etc. It can be scary looking back, remembering the good times and people you shared them with. Some of the people transcend these stages. It's a wonderful thing to have people who have been alongside you through it all. You can share virtually everything with them. Jeff was one of these special people in my life. We were best friends all through grammar school and high school. There were ups (such as graduation) and there were downs (such as getting caught setting off a firecracker in the girls' bathroom), but we were always in it together. He stayed home for college and I went away: That was a new challenge for our friendship. Freshman year we e-mailed each other almost every day. But when I was actually home for the summer, we didn't see each other very much. It seemed we both had too many commitments with work and other friends. The next year we spoke from time to time, but there was a big drop-off. Distance had crept up on us. And to be honest, I never really gave it much thought. Three weeks after I returned home last summer, I was a pallbearer at Jeff's funeral. I was eating a bowl of cereal watching Sportscenter one morning when Jeff's mother called to tell me he had been killed in a car accident the night before. I hadn't spoken to Jeff in the three weeks I had been home from school. I thought I should cry. I wanted to cry. But there were no tears. I lost it at the funeral, and it wasn't until I got home that I was able to start gathering my thoughts. All I could think about was the immense anger I felt towards myself. This person meant so much to me, and I intensely regretted having lost touch with him. I have tried to deal with this tragedy by learning something from it, and sharing that with others. Think about your friends -- especially those from past stages of your life. I don't know if any of them were ever gutsy enough or generous enough to buy you a pack of Garbage Pail Kids, but I'm sure you can all think of some very special people. We're all at some distance now, feeling out our own place in this world. In many ways these people aren't at the place we are now, but they're still in our hearts and minds. Don't forget them, wherever life takes you. Pick up a phone, write an e-mail, stay in touch with these people. They aren't less special now because they don't take the bus to school with you anymore or have a locker next to yours. It's a lot easier to maintain communication in this day and age. I urge you to take advantage of it. Time is never on our side. The kid bought me my first pack of Garbage Pail Kids. I'll never forget him.