It’s 1:45 pm, time for me to head to the high school to pick up my group of students that I transport home daily. I leave the house and go outside,it’s freezing out and there are big puffy snowflakes falling at a fast pace.It’s a very pretty scene to behold. I walk over to my school van, I get in and start the big blue beast, it starts quietly. It’s a very short drive to the high school and usually only takes 5 minutes to get there on a good day. I get to the high school on time today even though the traffic was crazy on route 44. I pull up to my spot in the line and there are about 12 vans in front of me, I’m the last one always. I wait for my students to come out, I have a group of three boys and two girls. They usually come out one at a time, and as each one approaches my van I turn on my bright red flashing school bus lights, as each student enters my school van, into my observational space for this ethnography.

Where they come from…

The students are all from Taunton, Ma, which is located in Bristol County, and it is also situated on the Taunton river. It is nicknamed,” The Silver City,” and it consists of 48.4 square miles. That makes it the third largest city in Massachusetts. The student’s all go to Taunton High School, which is one of three high schools in this city. Taunton has been very popular since 2008, because part of the movie “Shutter Island,” with Leonardo DiCaprio, was filmed here.

My students description’s…

 

Kayleigh is a 17 year old senior, who has brown eyes, and brown shoulder length straight hair, and she wears black framed glasses. She is of an average build for a teenage girl body wise. She is very soft spoken, and speaks in a classy way. She is editor in chief for the school newspaper and likes to write poems and short stories randomly. She is very talented and smart and she likes to read her poems and stories to the group of us on the van.She goes home everyday after school, to do chores and homework. Kayleigh’s family consists of her mom and step dad, her older brother and a younger step sister that sometimes stays over.

Desiree is a 13 year old 8th grader and the youngest of the group. She has light brown, long hair and blue gray eyes. She is a very petite girl with a small build. She’s outgoing and has no problem speaking out quickly in reaction to conversation’s going on. She is always texting her friends on the van. She may be the youngest and the smallest of the group but she has a strong personality. She stays on the van and goes back to the bus company everyday except Tuesday’s,which she goes to the boys club because I’m her mother and I go to college after work. Desiree’s family consists of her mom and dad and her younger brother.

Chris is a 17 year old junior who has brown short hair and brown eyes. He is about 5’5″ and got an average build. He has a goofy, weird personality and is always laughing and acts this way on the van all the time. In school he acts totally different, he’s quiet and reserved ,I guess, from what Kayleigh tells me. He is an attention seeker on the van. He’s always singing out loud and shaking his hands in the air to some music by  Taylor Swift or Miley Cyrus. He likes to make people laugh by acting like a fool. He goes to the boys club everyday after school. Chris’s family consists of his aunt and younger female cousin

Jacob is a 14 year old freshman who has light brown hair and brown eyes. He is of an average height about 5’5″ and is very thin in stature. He has a goofy and has a copy cat like personality. He tends to be a follower instead of a leader. He gets in trouble a lot in school and on the van. He is loud and and rambunctious and always smiling also. He likes to tell a lot of stories and they aren’t always true. He sings along with Chris to the music out loud and drives the rest of the group crazy. He goes to the boys club everyday after school. Jacob’s family consists of his father and his father’s girlfriend.

Shawn is a 17 year old special needs student with disabilities, he has down syndrome and mental retardation. He has brown hair and brown eyes and wears wire framed glasses. He is petite in stature I’m not sure of his height, he may be about 5′ tall. He looks to be about an average weight for his height. He is a fun personality to have on the van. He likes to give us hi-fives and he likes to pat people’s hair for some reason. He did it 10 times in a row to me one day. He’s always smiling and gets along with the girls on the van. He likes watching the boys and loves telling them to take a hike. He tries to grab at them and they act all dramatic and it drives him crazy. He tells them to get out ,and to shut up.Shawn goes to the Arc program everyday after school. It’s a program for people with disabilities.

The Important things in life…

These students all have a love for music, that seems to be at the top of the list of likes. Whether they are using ipods or their cell phones, music is one absolute pattern everyday. They all have different tastes in music. Kayleigh listens to rock, Desiree listens to a variety and Chris and Jacob listen to pop and rap music. Shawn just listens to whatever is on the radio. The next best thing would be their phones. texting their friends and going on facebook. Last would be talking about girls or boys that each may like and have a crush on.

My observations and student interactions…

I watch as the teenagers make their way to my van. First there is Chris,who’s actually walking today, he usually does a goofy, dramatic run to my van. He gets in and stumbles, the van shaking as he does so. He has his phone playing “Backsteet Boys,” I want it that way, out loud. He’s singing along and snapping his fingers to the beat. I say “Hello,” Chris just laughs and continues to sing.

Here comes Kayleigh next, walking slowly with her arms crossed across her chest and looking toward the ground. She gets in and greets me with a “soft hello.” I ask her how her day was, and she says,” It was ok.””I am just really tired today, I didn’t sleep well last night.” I say “me too,” it’s been a really long day so far. Kayleigh then tells Chris to turn his non music off, as he’s singing loudly and way off pitch. Chris ignores her and keeps singing.

Jacob gets in the van and goes to the back seat and sits with Chris who is still singing.  Jacob then starts singing in unison with Chris. While he’s singing along , he takes out his big black framed nerdy fake glasses and puts them on. I ask Jacob, where’s your rainbow colored mohawk wig, that you usually put on when you  wear the glasses? He says it’s lost at home somewhere.

Shawn gets in the van with the help of his teacher Mrs. A, and sits in the seat in front of Chris and Jacob. He turns around and goes to grab at the boys. Jacob says “no, don’t touch me,” and  stays within Shawn’s reach for some reason.  Shawn keeps trying to grab at him and keeps telling him to shut up, I’m going to punch you in the face. He then goes to grab at Chris, and Chris moves as far away from him as he can. They are acting loud and crazy,  Shawn tells them to “knock it off,” and to” take a hike.”

Desiree walks really fast, and gets in.She sits with Shawn and says “Hi Shawn,” and he just looks at her. She then asks him for a hi- five but he says no, and turns away. The rest of us ask him and he gives us one. Desiree asks him why he won’t give her one and he tells her to take a hike. Desiree goes on to tell us that he gives her hugs and hi-fives in school, but she don’t know why he wont on the van. I ask Desiree,” how was your day,” and she says it was good, I also ask her if she has any homework. She says, “yes, I have English and Math.”

Chris and Jacob are talking about Cherice,  the girl that keeps going back and forth between the both of them, breaking up with one of them and going out with the other. It seems to be an endless circle. Chris tells Jacob he’s now dating another girl now. I glance into my rear view mirror and see that Jacob has a big smile on his face, “knowing he is going to get his girl back again.” All of a sudden Chris says “don’t touch me,” referring to Jacob. They go on to have a mini slap fight. I tell them to stop, and remind them that they are not allowed to smack each other, or I’ll have to write each of them up, so they stop. “Ohh, that’s my song,” says Chris  as a song he likes is playing on the  radio, and once again he’s singing along to it loudly.

Not like the average high school students…

These teens are different, they don’t focus to much on appearance. I have noticed that they don’t have to have the most expensive sneakers or the most up to date clothes. I have listened to them talk about the way other kids treat them and teenagers can be very cruel. Some of my students families struggle and don’t have a lot of money or have the best of everything. I have noticed that not having the best, doesn’t really bother them. They don’t seem to care much about what others think. I personally agree and think that’s a good thing because having the best does not make one better.

I ask my student’s, “Do you like riding on my van?”

Yes, replies everyone,

Jacob says, “You’re cool”, “I like this riding on this van.”

Chris says “You’re not perfect, but you’re pretty cool,” and they make me laugh.

Kayleigh says “You’re nice, and a good driver,” I like chatting with you.”

Desiree says, “I like riding on here because I get along with these people,” “I usually have a hard time getting along with people my age.”

Shawn says, ” I like this van, and that’s it.”

Desiree and Kayleigh are trying to talk to Shawn again, but he’s telling them to “shut up and leave him alone.” I suddenly feel a pat on my left shoulder from Shawn followed by a quick pat of my head. “There is no reason to worry, Shawn is harmless.” I think it’s a ritual he has, and we all just laugh when he does it. One time he patted my head 10 times in a row, I think it’s funny.

It’s never  a dull moment with this group, I must say. Jacob just spilled his water bottle all over the van floor. Kayleigh says to Jacob,” How did you do that?” and Jacob says to her,” I don’t know.” I’m like thank goodness it’s only water  and that it’s  not  soda or some other colored drink, that would have stained the van rug . Chris starts bouncing up and down on his seat singing loudly yet again, with his hands moving in the air. Desiree and Kayleigh ask Chris to stop and he say’s “No, it’s my song.” Jacob once again starts to copy Chris as always. I tell the boys that they remind me of Beavis and Butthead, a show from Mtv.  Jacob would be Beavis who he resembles, and Chris would be Butthead because he looks exactly like the character, and they both act like the characters on the show. I was a fan of that show when I was their age.

Kayleigh says, I wrote two poems today, in about 20 minutes. She tells me a little about them and they sound interesting.

I ask her to read them out loud .

She says you want me too.

Kayleigh speaks loudly over the noise and asks everyone,”Do you want me to read my poems?”

We all say, “yes,” and she reads them to us.

I tell her she is a great writer, because she is that, she helps me, I ask her for help sometimes, question wise  about my writing class.

Kayleigh says” thank you,” to us for listening. The boys listened and actually liked her poems. They told her she did a great job.

I finally reach the Boy’s club where both Chris and Jacob get off. As they are getting off the van Shawn decides to give them a little push out the door as he’s telling them to get out.

“I say goodbye to them, have a good day, see you tomorrow.”

“They say goodbye to us.”

“Thank god,” says both Kayleigh and Desiree at the same time.

They aggravate me so bad Kayleigh says.

Her turn happens to be next, she gets out of the van and says,” Goodbye Des, see you tomorrow.”

She asks Shawn for a hi-five to go, which he refuses. He just says,” Stupid, take a hike.”

“I say goodbye to her and see you tomorrow, have a good day.”  Shawn’s next to be dropped off, and his assistant is waiting  to help him get off the van when I get there, he gets off.

I say,” Have a good day Shawn” He just looks at me and walks away.

I am Desiree’s mother, so she stays with me while I finish my other routes for the day. She tells me about how her day in school was. I listen and ask about her homework, which she replies that she has a lot to do. She then shows me her progress report for her math class.

I tell Desiree she needs to bring that C up.

She says,” I know, mom, I will.”

One last thing

The next day I ask my student’s one last question.

“What are your plans for the future?”

Jacob replies, “To join the army,” as he start’s showing us his new shoes and boots he got today in school. He is in the Jr R.O.T.C. class. Which I think means Jr recruit officer training cadet. I hope I’m right about this. “I want to be a commanding officer one day,” he says.

Desiree instantly replies ” I want to own a daycare, or be a preschool teacher, and go to college.” ” I like working with kids, she goes on to say, that’s what I want to do.”

Kayleigh softly says, “I want to get the highest degrees in psychology and communications.” “I just want to help someone, anywhere, any place, any time.”” I just want to help people.”

Shawn just says” I want to live with my mom forever and go to the Arc program.” .

Chris says “I want to just sleep and sleep some more.” “Only kidding, “I want to move up at my job at Trucchis Market or go to college someday, or be a mechanic.”

The subculture that unites these students…

Desiree only rides the van because I’m her mother and because I transport the students to her school. The other student’s have either a learning disability or physical ailment , or social problems with the “average normal peers,” that unite them on this van. Some of the student’s have attention deficit hyper activity disorder, anxiety, learning problems, or some forms of mental retardation. Having these types of disabilities unite these individuals on my van. The other factor is where they live or programs they go to.  They are fairly close in distance for drop offs, and that is why they are on my van.

This is my observation of one crazy, hectic ride, with a bunch of unique, rambunctious, american high school teenager’s with disabilities of some sort. T hey really aren’t all that different from the average “normal” high school student. This is how it is on a daily basis, when I drive them. I’ve been doing this job for almost 14 years. I happen to love what I do, it’s fun, and I laugh a lot. This group sure does make me laugh all the time. I wonder what tomorrow will bring, and I can’t wait to see what that will be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think I want to write my Ethnography on my group of high school students that I transport daily from school on my school van. I have three boys and two girls and there is always some commotion going on and a variety of topics being talked about. My 13 year old daughter is one of the student’s.I hope that is not a problem.Now my problem with this ethnography is figuring out how do I do this? Like I have said before this is all new and when I was in school I never heard of this subject. I feel like I need an outline on the steps to put this paper together. I’m actually going back and forth on, How can I do this on the group? or should I do this on an individual. I’m not clear on my choice yet.

“There has been an accident,” It was August 18, 2005. I got the call, the call nobody ever wants to get, ever. There has been a bad accident on route 24 south, near exit 10. My aunt Alice said, Falon’s gone, she didn’t make it. “No, I cried,” No, this can’t be true! I didn’t want to believe it, I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t really believe it right then, until later on, when everyone had gathered at my uncle’s.
I walked into my uncle’s apartment, a small one bedroom place, to an overcrowded apartment full of grieving broken hearted loved ones and friends. People with tears, cascading down their face, like flowing rivers. Most of the other people were embracing and hugging each other so tight, not wanting to let go of each other. Lots of used tissues, rolled into balls, were strewn all over the tables and furniture, clouds of cigarette smoke moving in slow motion through the air, and empty beer cans were all over the place. My uncle was sitting at the table wearing his big blackened out sunglasses, trying to hide the pain he was feeling. He never cried before, he was a big brawny tough guy. Men weren’t supposed to break down and cry he thought, until now after losing his first born daughter.
I had no choice at this point, it was true, she was gone and reality hit me, like a ton of bricks. I broke down, and cried like I have never cried before. My eyes were blood shot, red rimmed, and full of tears, snots were running down my face, and my mouth was quivering while my body was shaking, thinking to myself, “How do I deal with this?”
Just seventeen days ago had been one of the happiest days of my life. I had given birth to my son Alex, and now I am dealing with the loss of someone who meant everything to me, feeling consumed by grief and a broken heart. How can this be? This loss is unlike any I have ever known. The pain I am feeling is ripping me to shreds. It goes through my whole body and it hurts, like something I can’t even explain. The loss is so intense, like a part of me has been stolen, a part that I can never get back, the loss of my cousin, my sister, and my best friend. That is who Falon was to me.
Flashbacks started instantly, thoughts of her when she was little, the times our families lived together. To three weeks ago, the last time I saw her and everything else in between, our recent conversations and the last day we spent time together. She had come over to take my daughter and I out to breakfast. We were in the car with the windows rolled down, the wind flowing through our hair listening to Kid Rock music. On our way to the little Portuguese restaurant, laughing and joking around about my big round pregnant belly.
Every single little memory of Falon was flashing through my head, at an accelerated rate of speed, like a rapidly moving slide show. Starting from the day she was born, until this extremely horrific day. The intense pain and anxiety I’m feeling are unbearable. I feel like an elephant, is sitting on my chest squeezing the oxygen and life out of me. Why her? Why did God have to take Falon?
She was such a loving happy child and always smiling. She was so much fun at such a young age she was always learning and trying new things and we were inseparable. Our bond was growing stronger every day. We were cousins, growing up like sisters. The years went by swiftly, my uncle then decided to move to Maine. I was depressed and heartbroken, because Falon would be moving far away. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined though because my uncle came down often and stayed at our apartment for weeks at a time.
I was like her big sister. She always wanted to brush my hair and I let her, it felt so good. The brush bristles stroking my head and sliding down through my hair. It put me in a catatonic state of relaxation, where sometimes I would actually doze off. I used to let her put makeup on me too, the feeling of the makeup brushes tickling my face felt good and made me squirm. It was fun when she was around I liked being pampered. We would also play Barbie dolls, and make Barbie houses out of shoes and then watch Punky Brewster episodes while just hanging out in my room. “Falon, actually dressed up as Punky Brewster for Halloween around this time.”
We grew up and inherited the nicknames Tami bag and Falon bag. They called us that because we were always in someone’s business while we we’re kids. I guess she learned a lot from me. Don’t get me wrong, I was a good kid. I was just very outspoken and liked to talk, and say whatever I wanted to say around my family. Falon had learned a lot from me and she acted like me, she inherited my attitude, and also talked like me too, using my tones of voice. By this time we were cousins, who grew up like sisters, who then became best friends. I know, it might seem unreal, because I am seven years older than she was, but she was my best friend and more. We did everything together. She was with me while I was learning how to drive a car.” Falon be quiet, I need to concentrate,” I would say, as the car was jerking back and forth harshly, while my foot was pounding the gas and then the brakes.
Falon was wise beyond her years, an older soul in a young body. We were close still, but were more like sisters at this point. We would bicker and argue and fight, she was the nagging little sister, always tattle tailing. She knew how to push my buttons, that’s for sure. She would always go in my room and touch all my things. She would get mouthy and act like a miss know it all, and mock me. It was basically like that until after I moved out of the house when I was eighteen. Our bond grew tight again and after that she would come and stay over my apartment on weekends. Falon grew up and became a very responsible young woman. I was proud of her. I knew she learned a lot of the responsibility from me. We were alike in so many ways.. She was a great person, and always looking to help someone, like I always did.
I had my first child, and Falon was also a big part of my daughter Desiree’s life too. We were cousins who grew up like sisters, then became best friends and now she was my babysitter. She was great with my daughter and my daughter loved her so much. My daughter got to experience the joys of knowing and loving her too. They had a strong bond and connection, until that day, when my heart sank into oblivion. That call, that Falon didn’t survive the accident, is ingrained in my memory, it tore my world apart piece by piece to the point I no longer feel like a whole person. To this day nobody knows how it happened. To our knowledge, nobody seen anything and there were no other cars involved. I remember the weather that day. I wish I knew what happened. Why she was taken from us?
Every moment and every memory are playing out like a movie in my head, rewind, replay, fast forward and pause. Over and over the cycle repeats. I don’t want to forget a single moment with Falon, because I can never get those moments back. I just wish I knew why this happened, but I don’t.
The only thing I do know is, two days later she talked to my daughter in my daughter’s dream. My daughter came and woke me up and said mama, mama, Falon talked to me in my dream. I woke up instantly and asked her what Falon said? My daughter had just turned five, two months before this. She said that Falon told her she loves and misses us, even your father too. My other half and she used to joke around and aggravate each other. She told my daughter to give my son a hug from her and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see him. She’s also said she’s sorry she has to go now. I wrote this all down as I was asking my daughter what she said. I wanted to know more so I asked my daughter what Falon was wearing in the dream? My daughter said she was wearing black clothes, I asked her how Falon’s hair was? She said it was up in a messy bun. We didn’t know the details of her appearance the day. When I talked to my uncle and told him what happened with my daughter he told me that’s what she was wearing and how she had her hair.
The fact that remains is, time has gone by and nothing gets easier. I still feel the same as I did that day. The only solace I have is, knowing that she came through in my daughter’s dream because of the bond we all shared, love, family, and friendship. I know I will never have this connection with anyone else because she is irreplaceable. We were cousins who grew up like sisters and then became best friends.

There has been an accident.”
It was August 18, 2005, when I got the call, the call nobody ever wants to get, ever. There has been a bad accident on route 24 south, near exit 10. The voice on the phone said, Falon’s gone, she didn’t make it. “No,I cried,” No, this can’t be true! I didn’t want to believe it, I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t really believe it right then. Until later on, when everyone had gathered at my uncle’s house. I had no choice, It was true, she was gone and reality hit me,really hard.
Just seventeen days ago had been one of the happiest days of my life. I had given birth to my son, and now I am dealing with the worst day of my life, that has ever happened to me. How can this be? This loss is unlike any I have ever known.The pain I am feeling is ripping me to shreds. It goes through my whole body and it hurts, like something I can’t even explain. The loss is so intense,like a part of me has been stolen. A part that I can never get back. The loss of my cousin,my sister and my best friend. That is who Falon was to me.
I had just turned seven a month before Falon was born.She was born the day before Valentine’s Day. We always joked around and called it Falontine’s day, throughout her life. I remember holding her, and being amazed by her when she was little. She was the first baby, besides my brother’s that was a big part of my life. Our bond grew from the start.
My parents separated around this time. My mother took my brothers and I, and we moved into my uncles apartment. My uncle is Falon’s father, we lived with his family for a while. My bond with Falon continued to grow. We were cousins,growing up like sisters. Our parents are siblings, and they are extremely close.
She was a smart little girl,she walked before the age of one, and was potty trained by the age of two. She was such a happy child and always smiling. She was so much fun at such a young age and we were inseparable. That’s how it was until my mother got our own apartment again about a year later. We moved and I was sad, I didn’t have my Falon around me all the time anymore. That was hard to get used to. My uncle did come over with her often, but it wasn’t the same as living in the same house though.
A few years later my uncle decided to move to Maine. I was sad once again because Falon would be far away from me. It wasn’t as bad as I thought though because my uncle came down often and stayed at our apartment for weeks at a time. I remember to her. I was like her big sister. She always wanted to brush my hair and I let her. Sometimes I even let her put makeup on me too. It was fun when she was around. We would play barbie dolls and watch Punky Brewster episodes while just hanging out in my room.
As the years went by we grew up and inherited the nicknames Tami bag and Falon bag. They called us that because I was always in someone’s business at a young age. I guess she learned a lot from me. Don’t get me wrong, I was a good kid. I was just very outspoken and liked to talk, and say whatever I said around my family. Falon had learned a lot from me and acted like me and also talked like me. By this time we were cousins, who grew up like sisters, who then became best friends.

At first, I had no idea what this story was going to be about. So as I read on detail by detail, I can see the picture that the writer is creating. The details about being in the car to the weather outside, or even the place she is at, are all described in pin point detail. I feel that I have no questions to ask for more details. She did all that and then some.

The essay is about the writer taking her nephew to the park on a rainy,foggy,dreary day. She starts describing her experience from being in the car,  when she gets to the park and then goes on to describe the park, and it feels as if you are there with her and can see it all with your own eyes. It’s all there from the squishing of the wet soggy grass , to the soaked park benches.

The writer didn’t seem to be looking forward to the experience as she was sitting in her car that day, listening to the wipers swish back and forth,debating on whether to get out or not. She had to, she had her 12 year old nephew who couldn’t wait to get out and go play. To him it didn’t matter that it was dusk, rainy, foggy, and that everything was soaking wet, he was excited anyway. On the other hand the writer herself wasn’t sure she wanted to get out of the car, she did though. she ended up having a great time regardless of the weather. So what started out as an “I’m not really sure about this,” turned into a, “Wow, that was fun,” regardless of the weather and, “I’m glad we did that.”

The structure of the essay was great, it all worked really well in my opinion. This all happened in a visit to the park on a rainy,dreary, foggy day. One last thing I must add is the nephew did ask her to return to the park on a nice day, even though he had a great time that day.

“There has been an accident.”

It was August 18, 2005,  I got the call, the call nobody ever wants to get, ever. There has been a bad accident on route 24 south, near exit 10. My aunt Alice said,  Falon’s gone, she didn’t make it. “No,I cried,” No, this can’t be true! I didn’t want to believe it, I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t really believe it right then. Until later on, when everyone had gathered at my uncle’s.

I walked into my uncles apartment, a small one bedroom place, to an overcrowded apartment full of grieving broken hearted loved ones and friends. People with tears,  cascading down their face, like flowing rivers. Most of the other people were embracing and hugging each other so tight, not wanting to let go of each other. Lots of  used tissues, rolled into balls, were strewn all over the tables and furniture, clouds of cigarette smoke moving in slow motion through the air, and empty beer cans were all over the place. My uncle was sitting at the table wearing his big blackened out sunglasses, trying to hide the pain he was feeling. He never cried before, he was a big brawny tough guy.  Men weren’t supposed to break down and cry he thought, until now after losing his first born daughter.

I had no choice at this point, It was true, she was gone and reality hit me, like a ton of bricks.  I broke down,  and cried like I have never cried before. My eyes were blood shot, red rimmed, and full of tears, snots were running down my face, and my mouth was quivering while my body was shaking, Thinking to myself, “How do I deal with this?”.

Just seventeen days ago had been one of the happiest days of my life. I had given birth to my son Alex, and now I am dealing with the loss of someone who meant everything to me,  feeling consumed by grief and a broken heart. How can this be? This loss is unlike any I have ever known. The pain I am feeling is ripping me to shreds. It goes through my whole body and it hurts, like something I can’t even explain. The loss is so intense, like a part of me has been stolen. A part that I can never get back. The loss of my cousin, my sister and my best friend. That is who Falon was to me.

Flashbacks started instantly, thoughts of her when she was little, the times our families lived together. To three weeks ago, the last time I saw her and every thing else in between, our recent conversation’s and the last day we spent time together. She had come over to take my daughter and I out to breakfast. We were in the car with the windows rolled down, the wind flowing through our hair listening to Kid Rock music. On our way to the little Portuguese restaurant, laughing and joking around about my big round pregnant belly.

Every single little memory of Falon was flashing through my head, at an accelerated rate of speed, like a rapidly moving slide show. Starting from the day she was born, until this extremely horrific day. The intense pain and anxiety I’m feeling are unbearable. I  feel like an elephant,  is sitting on my chest squeezing the oxygen and life out of me.  Why her? Why did God have to take Falon?

She was such a loving happy child and always smiling. She was so much fun at such a young age she was always learning and trying new things and we were inseparable. Our bond was growing stronger everyday. We were cousins, growing up like sister’s. The years went by swiftly, my uncle then  decided to move to Maine. I was depressed and heartbroken, because Falon would be moving far away. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined  though because my uncle came down often and stayed at our apartment for weeks at a time.

I was like her big sister. She always wanted to brush my hair and I let her, it felt so good. The brush bristles stroking my head and sliding down through my hair, put me in a catatonic state of relaxation, where sometimes I would actually doze off. I used to let her put makeup on me too, the feeling of the makeup brushes tickling my face felt good and made me squirm. It was fun when she was around I liked being pampered. We would also play barbie dolls, and make barbie houses out of shoes and then watch Punky Brewster episodes while just hanging out in my room. “Falon, actually dressed up as Punky Brewster for Halloween around this time.”

We grew up and inherited the nicknames Tami bag and Falon bag. They called us that because we were always in someone’s business while we were young . I guess she learned a lot from me. Don’t get me wrong, I was a good kid. I was just very outspoken and liked to talk, and say whatever I wanted to say around my family. Falon had learned a lot from me and she acted like me, She inherited my attitude, and also talked like me too, using my tones of voice. By this time we were cousins, who grew up like sisters, who then became best friends. I know, it might seem unreal, because I am seven years older,  she was my best friend and more. We did everything together. She was with me as I was learning how to drive a car.” Falon be quiet, I need to concentrate,”  I would say, as the car was jerking back and forth harshly, while my foot was pounding the gas and then the brakes.

Falon was wise beyond her years. An older soul in a young body.We were close still, but  were more like sisters at this point. We would bicker and argue, she was the nagging little sister, always tattle tailing. She knew how to push my buttons, that’s for sure. She would always go in my room and touch all my things. She would get mouthy and play the miss know it all card and mock me. It was basically like that until after I moved out of the house when I was eighteen. Our bond grew tight again and after that she would come and stay over my apartment on weekends. Falon grew up and became a very responsible young woman. I was proud of her. I knew she learned a lot of the responsibility from me. We were alike in so many ways.. She was a great person,always looking to help someone, like I always did.

I had my first child, and Falon was also a big part of my daughter Desiree’s life too. We were cousins who grew up like sisters, then became best friends and now she was my babysitter. She was great with my daughter and my daughter loved her so much. My daughter got to experience the joy’s of knowing and loving her too. They had a strong bond , until that day, when my heart sank into oblivion. The call, the worst news that a person could ever hear. Falon didn’t survive the accident. To this day nobody knows how it happened. To our knowledge, nobody seen anything and there were no other cars involved. I remember the weather that day. I wish I knew what happened. Why she was taken from us?

Every moment and every memory are playing out like a movie in my head, rewind, replay, fast forward and pause. Over and over the cycle repeats. I don’t want to forget a single moment  with Falon, because I can never get those moments back.  I just wish I knew why this happened,  but I don’t.

The only thing I do know is,  two days later she talked to my daughter in my daughter’s dream. My daughter came and woke me up and said mama,mama, Falon talked to me in my dream. I woke up instantly and asked her what Falon said? My daughter had just turned five, two month’s before this. She said that Falon told her she loves and misses us, even your father too. My other half and her used to joke around and aggravate each other. She told my daughter to give my son a hug from her and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see him. She’s also said she’s sorry she has to go now. I wrote this all down as I was asking my daughter what she said. I wanted to know more so I asked my daughter what she was wearing? My daughter said black clothes, I asked her how Falon’s hair was? She said it was  up in a messy bun. We didn’t know the details of her appearance the day.  When I talked to my uncle and told him what happened with my daughter he told me that’s what she was wearing and how she had her hair.

The fact that remains is time has gone by and nothing gets easier. I still feel the same as I did that day. The only solace I have is knowing that she came through in my daughter’s dream because of the bond we all shared, love, family, and friendship. I know I will never have this connection with anyone else because she is irreplaceable.  We were cousins who grew up like sister’s and then became best friends.