It’s much easier said than done. I’ve lived in the same city and state all 23 years of my life. I’ve known many of the same people since I was 5. We’ve grown together, loved, hated, loathed, adored, and admired each other since we played house and shopped for plastic fruits. Many of them have been in my life from beginning of my education until the beginning of my adulthood. People come and people go, but everyone leaves an impression on you in some way, for some different period of time. Cameron White left an impression on me, in third grade. He had brilliant eyes, a mix of green, blue, and brown. His hair was chestnut brown, he spoke with a lisp, and he smiled- all the time. His laugh was contagious, and his smile was gorgeous. There was never a time that I saw Cam when my cheeks wouldn’t flush, my heart wouldn’t race, and my breath wouldn’t shake. He was my first crush.
My best childhood friend, Stephany and I spent time with him and his best guy friends. We were a group, one group of kids against the world, growing, changing, and learning to live as we became young adults trying to adapt before we felt like we might die. Through everything, Cam was kind. He knew I had feelings for him, I’m sure I wasn’t good at being discrete, but after a while- I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me as long as our friendship wasn’t in jeopardy. After a while in high school, my cheeks stopped becoming so rosy when he showed up, my breathing stayed steady, and I didn’t feel like my heart was about to burst from my chest. I discovered my ability to flirt, and a smile was suddenly accompanied by the raise of a nicely arched eyebrow- I felt confident around him.
He loved to skateboard, dirtbike, and draw. He was incredibly artistic, he always drew on something. Whether a desk or paper, anything. In seventh grade, we were in Geography together, and he sat behind me. He always made jokes about our teacher (who was ridiculous, lived with his mother, aimlessly spoke with little point in any lecture, and frankly- I was embarrassed for him) just for me to hear. He’d lean forward to get close to my left ear and speak just enough so I could hear him. Every once in a while, he’d be drawing at the top of his desk and my hair would be in the way, so he’d gently push it out of the way but his fingers would brush along my back, and my body would go rigid. A chill would rush down my spine, and I loved it.
We weren’t close in high school, he kept most of his childhood friends, but he made plenty new. Though I didn’t get much time with him, whenever I saw him he would smile at me or say hello. He grew to be so handsome. He was more rugged, his features more defined, and his body filled out. He walked taller and just knew how to act around anyone and everyone. I knew that just about every girl I knew had some kind of feelings for him at some point, that didn’t upset me, it just made me a bit more determined to win him over- Being in high school gives us more freedom to make more drastic decisions and choices. Alcohol and drugs become a bigger part of the decision making, we attempt to find a reason for the mess of emotions that constantly flood our minds and hearts, to figure out whether or not we love someone or if we just want to have sex with them, or both. We see how our bodies change, we attempt to accept them as they are, but it was usually damn near impossible. High school was when I noticed that a lot of people disappearing, they were dropping out, being suspended, expelled, or choosing to back away from a social life. Cam was one of them. One thing I didn’t know was he’d begun smoking, drinking, and taken his self confidence to a whole new level- he’d become cocky. His new found “confidence” had gotten him expelled. He’d always told us to stand up for ourselves, not to give in to something just because others were a part of it, but he chose to ignore his own words. Once he was expelled, I didn’t see him much. I just knew he’d become a father.
I didn’t see much of anyone from the earlier years, we moved on. I saw Steph every once in a while, but that was about it. I’ll never forget when I saw the first notification on Facebook that Cam was sick- I know, I know. Facebook isn’t how you want to see something like that, but as we all know, it’s how most of anything is found out these days. He was sick, he had cancer. In some little, but massive way- my world was shaken. I had sudden feeling of being extremely vulnerable- my dad had cancer, but he’s in his fifties. We were 22 years old. Seriously? I remember I looked away from my computer screen and lost my gaze to my bedroom wall. I just stared at it for a minute that felt like a few. His laugh ran through my head, and I saw his face. Like usual, it was kind. I closed out of Facebook, and went about my day.
I didn’t see him, I just saw a flow of statuses about his illness, how he felt, and what to expect. The more he posted, one thing stood out to me the most- he was so positive. His body was so tired, but he wouldn’t acknowledge it. I kept wondering how much he’d be affected by the cancer, how intense his battle would be. My dad never lost his hair through chemo or radiation, but of course he was tired. As months passed, Cam physically aged extremely really fast. It didn’t stop him from going out with friends, or spending time with his little lady- his sweet little girl.
I was at work the last time I saw him. It was over this last summer, I was working at a skate shop. I was at the top of a ladder getting some shoes down, when someone said: Hey, Jenny! I turned, looked down and he was standing at the bottom of my ladder, smiling. With some shoe boxes in my arm, I climbed down and said hello to him. I did my best not to show what I was really feeling, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, cry, and tell him he’d be okay. Instead, I just watched and listened to him. I absorbed every word, looked into his amazing eyes, and ignored the fact the he was physically changed. So much thinner, bald, and exhausted, the only thing really lively about him aside from his voice were the vibrant sleeve tattoos he had. He found a couple shirts, and checked out a few skateboards. I was so caught up in him that I didn’t even realize he was there with a girl. I knew her, I’d taught a class to her before. She was nice, but I still couldn’t help but be a bit envious of her considering all I’d wanted when I was younger was to with him as much as possible, though I knew it wouldn’t be any more than a friendship. It didn’t matter, I just wanted to be with him. Before they left, he came to say goodbye. He raised his hand up for a high-five, and we laughed. The last words he said to me were: Take care of yourself. I smiled and said that I would. I felt a bit heartbroken when he left my store.
Summer went by extremely fast, I didn’t see him again. He’d continued to post about his progression with cancer, and I was out at a coffee shop when I read the post the infuriated me. He was heartbroken and he felt alone. He said that he couldn’t understand why someone would find it difficult to love him though he was so sick. He was tired of being alone at night, he was frustrated, and he was sick. I wrote him a message and told him that anyone that couldn’t accept him for who he was, sick or not, wasn’t worth his time. I wanted to tell him everything that I’d felt for him, but I couldn’t do it. I let him know that he was a great guy, that I was proud of him for all he’s put up with, and that I admired his strength. I couldn’t find the courage to lay my heart on the table to him- I’m glad I didn’t. The more I thought about it all, I realized so many of the things I’ve taken for granted are things he won’t have anymore. To come home to someone waiting for you, ready to wrap their arms around you not just because they missed you, but because they love you. Hear their laugh, smell their scent that comforts you, hear a quick hello or goodbye that means everything. To be told you look beautiful or handsome no matter what you’re wearing, feel them reach for your hand when they catch up to you when you’re out together, catch their eye from across a room- just smile at each other. He deserved all of those things and more for so much longer than he was given. I know he made the most of the time he had, but I’d be lying if I said that I’m not pissed.
At work, a new job, I heard he was in hospice. He’d had surgery to remove more tumor from his chest and it was breaking his body down faster. He was told to get his affairs in order, there was no longer an amount of time he was expected to have. His biological clock was ticking by days instead of minutes, months, or years. My eyes had filled tears, but I didn’t cry. I knew there’d be plenty of tears when he actually passed, I wanted to be strong like him until then.
January 15, 2012 was a partly cloudy day. I was putting on my apron in the back room before my shift, and like usual- I checked my phone for any messages then looked at Facebook. The post that immediately hit the screen was under his name. Cameron inhaled and exhaled for the last time that afternoon at 1:20 p.m. I started work at 2 that day, when he died, I was putting on mascara. Mistake. My knees buckled, my hands had begun to shake, and I was sobbing. He was gone. I couldn’t leave my shift early because I closed that night, but Steph texted me and asked if I wanted to go to the funeral with her, we both agreed we wouldn’t have gone alone, but we couldn’t imaging going with anyone else.
Friday the 20th came quickly, the funeral was that afternoon. It was also my dad’s birthday so I tried to focus on that, trying to keep a smile but I was so nervous. I was nervous to see people that I grew up with. Though some of us hadn’t seen each other in months or years, we all felt the same. I stood amongst my peers, some people that I didn’t know, and some that I didn’t expect to see. My hair in soft curls, I was dressed in black and gray. The only colors I wore was the dark brown of my hair, the white of my skin, and the blue of my eyes. For the first time- I felt lifeless. Everyone was seated, I scanned the room to take in my surroundings when I saw someone that I was more nervous to see. His name is Kris, we dated in high school, we’ve gone to church together since we were kids, he was one of Cam’s best friends. He stood up from his seat in a black suit, his brown hair was nicely messed in a faint faux-hawk and I was hit with a thought: What did I do? I’d missed him since we broke up, which to this day, I’m not completely sure why we did, but I do know that he was so good to me. We never lost our feelings for each other and my heart raced when I saw him. He left his seat to move up to the front row with a few others.
The funeral progressed, I cried, laughed, and cried more. The more the pastor spoke of him, my heart-strings were pulled, and I was crushed but, of course I remembered how great he was. Smiling was a nice break in between my frown and tears. Once all things were said, we all rushed to sign the guest book and see the collage of pictures. Any other time, I would have signed my name as Jenn, but he knew me as Jenny. I signed my name, looked to the left and saw a picture of him as a small child. He was adorable. Steph and I made our way to the series of collages along a wall, starting from the recent years then ending with him as a baby. I liked seeing his full, squeezy cheeks and wide eyes. I’ll always know him as the youthful guy that I knew.
People approached me, hugging me while crying. Still finding the kindness to tell me I looked beautiful when I’m sure I looked like I was hit by a train. Everyone’s expressions spoke for them, but we forced words and thoughts. I saw a gathering of people towards the front of the room, by a wooden box. Flowers were on the table with the box, framed pictures, and cards. Steph and I stood in this line that turned into a clump of people that were standing together near the box that contained what was left of Cam. To think his beautiful, frail, physical being was now in a wooden box was so strange and absolutely heartbreaking. I ran my left hand’s fingertips along the top of the box while admiring the pictures in the frames. He drew everyone of them, they were amazing. My hands felt cold, I suddenly realized my body was cold. I knew I was exhausted, my mind was sick of processing thoughts and my body was about to break down. I thought Steph had said something to me, so I turned my head to the right to respond, but I saw Kris looking at me. His face read that he wanted to move, whether toward me or just to move. I looked away, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Ideally, I wanted to rush over to him and throw my arms around his neck, but I didn’t know what our boundaries were. Our eyes met again, for a third time then I felt frustration starting to build and I looked at the wooden box to stop the panic, but my chin had begun to quiver, tears filled my eyes, and I was rubbing my palms together to apparently keep from falling down and sobbing in defeat like I’d have loved to do, but before I could figure out what to do, I saw movement from the right corner of my eye. Kris was pushing through people to get to me. I turned to him, tears streaming down my face, and he wrapped his arms around my torso, pulling me against him which kept me to my feet because I let my legs give in. He was holding me together for the time he held me. I threw my arms around his neck, crying, I whispered that I missed him- he buried his face into my neck. I felt strength in my core again. I pulled away, his eyes were glossed over with tears and they were vibrant. Green and beautiful. We stood next to each other for a minute with people all around, I felt good next to him, I felt okay.
More people approached, we comforted one another. Steph and I had begun to make our way toward the back of the room. It was time to leave, I didn’t want to go but I knew that no matter how long I stayed, he wasn’t coming back. I had a good friend with me, people that still meant something to me, and a good guy who didn’t forget what I meant to him. For the first time in a long time- I felt okay. Steph and I stood close to each other as we left. I smiled as much as I could when I pushed the doors open and said goodbye to people. It was cold, the sun was setting, and he was gone. Cam was gone, and I finally knew it. The drive home was quiet aside from sniffling. Somehow, I’d shut off the urge to cry when I got home, but when I was changing into jeans and a sweatshirt for my dad’s birthday dinner- I felt different. Notifications were lighting up my phone from people who’d posted about the funeral on Facebook. I decided to create a status about it, sharing with whoever cared to read that I had mourned the loss and celebrated the life of an incredible man. The second I typed the period at the end of the small paragraph, I fell apart again.
Cameron Keith White- I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it countless more times:
You were wonderful.
I'll miss you.
