Remembering Elyse

By: Emily

Emily is a member of Reach Out!'s Youth Advisory Board. In this story she relates her experiences of grief after a friend died of cancer. To find out more about the Youth Advisory Board Check out Reach Out's Chilling Out section.

Growing up - Coping with a friend's death

Forget-me-nots have always been my favourite flower. Roses are beautiful, so are sunflowers, but forget-me-nots hold my heart. Blue is my favourite colour, and it was Elyse who have me my first seeds. I planted them in a place where mum said they wouldn't grow.

They did.

They're now tall and wild, and spreading, despite the fact that mum said they wouldn't grow. Persistent little suckers. But I admire their courage in the face of adversity. I admired Elyse too, pity she never got to see them.

Being myself

When I was young, I wasn't afraid to be myself - being me was good enough. I never took a bad picture. I never had a bad hair day. My friends and I spent recess running around telling 'secrets'. I was marked on spelling and art. I didn't know or care what letter grades were. And I had Elyse. We danced together, not caring who watched. We wore the clothes we wanted to wear- if we wanted to run about in a bathing suit we did it.

Things have changed now that I'm a big kid. Being myself isn't good enough anymore. I have to wear a mask that grins and lies, although lately it's been cracked. The secrets I tell my friends are not ones I run around sharing. But Elyse will always stay young. She will always believe in Santa Claus, and forget-me-not wishes.

The diagnosis

That was grade two. The year I started calling her 'Lice' instead of 'Elyse'. I tried out 'Elevator' and 'Police', and sat around trying to think of worse, but Lice was the one that stuck. And how ironic. To his day I still cringe when people say her name that way, it brings back many of those wonderful memories. They always make me cry, damn them. But they're good tears.

I don't remember having any close friends that year, but I remember Tiggy the guinea pig; Mrs Maguire reading 'The Secret Garden'; and visiting Lyse all the time. Lyse had cancer, I'm not quite sure when it happened.

At first, it was the way she was always getting awful ugly bruises. It was funny actually. No one thought anything of it, and I used to tease her a lot, especially when they came up in odd places like her nose and finger tips. Once, I even had to stay behind after German to apologise with the principal to her. But we were still kind of friends.

The memories

One day I remember making a cardboard box, and covering it nicely with wrapping paper, with a sticky handle. And I have it to her, under our Morton Bay Fig tree where we had our fairy-garden of forget-me-nots. That was our dancing tree, but sometimes she was so weak that is was hard for her even to walk.

Then was the nose, which was a constant occurrence. Our teaches used to always remind 'Don't horse around with Lyse, her nose will start to bleed'. She started missing a lot of school soon after that. I was so envious. Elsye got to go to the hospital every second Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and would stay home for the rest of the week. Mum took me to visit her once. But sitting in the stark white waiting room was far more than I could handle. It was scary. Looking back, perhaps I just couldn't stand to see the pain in her little eyes any longer.

Simple gifts

That spring went by really quickly. Halloween was fun, and her 9th birthday was delicious. I used to bring her forget-me-nots. Elyse's health remained steady, although still fragile. I spent a whole day with her once, and her dad. I always dissolved into giggles when he tickled me. "We had fun today, right Lyse and Emmy?" he'd say.

"Right"

"We'll do it again, right?"

"Yep"

And we stood with our heads tilted to the stars, our eyes squinted shut. Starlight, starbright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight. I wished always for her to get better; and she wished once for me to have a baby in my tummy. I sometimes cry remembering these, they went by too quickly.

We weren't allowed to have a Christmas tree that year. Mum was too busy packing for me to move houses. I've still never forgiven her for making that rule. I helped Elyse decorate hers though. It was my last Christmas in Whyalla; our last Christmas together. She sat in a chair, with Christmas lights beautifully illuminating her face, bringing out an innocent sparkle not seen in a long time. She was crying. "Emmy, it's not fair" I remember she blubbered. We didn't want to have to part.

Now I think about it, so many things weren't fair. We sat for a very long time that Christmas. A very long, lonesome and scary time. We held each others hand, knowing it was going to be our last time together for a while. But afterwards, there was an understanding between us. I was ready to leave, and I think perhaps, so was she. We could handle anything now.

We left on the aeroplane to move house on December 20th, and in January she slipped into a coma. Elyse's mum rang and told my mum. I looked outside and saw the removals boxes on the veranda, knowing that just hours ago Elyse had taken her last breathe. Somewhere, in one of those boxes, a collection of forget-me-not seeds were still waiting to be planted. I hated myself for it, but I suddenly felt better. I knew that Elyse was safe. She was no longer scared or hurt, and it was better this way. I also felt ready to start a new life, and make some new friends, always remembering what Elyse had taught and given me.

I think maybe that's why forget-me-nots are my favourite flower. They show me hope. They show me courage. They show me the result of a little girl's dream to grow something and being stubborn enough to plant them where she wanted. They let me remember Elyse.

Forget-me-nots, orange Popsicles, dandelion wishes, and Santa Claus. I have to remember the simple things.......