"Just because somebody's dead you don't stop liking them, for God's sake.
Especially if they were about a thousand times nicer
than the people you know that're alive & all"
Holden Caulfield
Especially if they were about a thousand times nicer
than the people you know that're alive & all"
Holden Caulfield
A brother's love has the strength to magically transform a little girl forgotten into a little girl cherished. And my "brother" wasn't a brother at all, he was a family friend. But when he twirled me around and looked into the mirror over my shoulder, I felt more cherished than I ever had before.
"Do you see her?" I can remember him asking me as he pointed at my reflection in the mirror. "That . . . is the prettiest little girl in the whole wide world." He said - spinning me around the room again. "And you'll always have something that those other girls don't have. Because you're different. Because I can see your beautiful soul right there in your eyes. Because there'll never be another you."
So when they called to tell me that he was gone, I had only one thought. A thousand tears and one thought. One thought that haunted me - that still does. It was a single regret that wrapped itself around my teenage brain and wouldn't let go. "Why didn't I ever tell HIM how special HE was?" Because he was. Because I couldn't stop wondering if it would have made a difference. Because I knew what it felt like to wish you could have saved someone . . . and why Holden Caulfield wanted to be The Catcher In The Rye.
"Do you see her?" I can remember him asking me as he pointed at my reflection in the mirror. "That . . . is the prettiest little girl in the whole wide world." He said - spinning me around the room again. "And you'll always have something that those other girls don't have. Because you're different. Because I can see your beautiful soul right there in your eyes. Because there'll never be another you."
So when they called to tell me that he was gone, I had only one thought. A thousand tears and one thought. One thought that haunted me - that still does. It was a single regret that wrapped itself around my teenage brain and wouldn't let go. "Why didn't I ever tell HIM how special HE was?" Because he was. Because I couldn't stop wondering if it would have made a difference. Because I knew what it felt like to wish you could have saved someone . . . and why Holden Caulfield wanted to be The Catcher In The Rye.
It's a tattered paperback that still gets me. And I identify with it's protagonist's distaste for the phonies of this world just as much at 33 as I did at 15. When I read the news of JD Salinger's death, I pulled it off of the shelf again, poured a Scotch, and made a Toast to an old friend.
The day that they buried my "Allie" the sun felt, on my face, very much the way that I always felt when he smiled at me. There were ladybugs . . . swarms and swarms of ladybugs. And it was on that day that I decided to surround myself with them.
Now the little red beetles perch here and there in my house to remind me that you can't ever let yourself overlook a chance to tell someone how special they are. That you can't say I love you too often, or too soon. That thoughts of admiration should be spoken aloud and from the rooftops. Those little Love Bugs give me hope. Remember . . .
"hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies"
Andy Dufresne
