My high school photography teacher once said that pictures not only captured memories, but immortality. Youth and beauty would forever remain in the confinements of glossy squares, and the subject would continue to live on forever.
Of course, at the time, I took those words with the proverbial grain of salt, not fully understanding how powerful they were. And without giving it a second thought, I photographed an entire roll of film, using my high school crush, Bianca Moreno, as my subject.
After we graduated from high school, Bianca was diagnosed with a tumor in her leg, that transformed into cancer. She had been battling with the disease for the past three years, losing her hair, but not her spirit. It was strange seeing my friend with a colorful Pucci scarf over her head, where her long hair should have been, but what wasn't strange was how optimistic we all were about Bianca making it through. Sadly though, she didnt, and late, last Thursday night, Bianca passed away.
When Madelaine called me to tell me the bad news of our dear friend, I almost thought she was playing a really cruel joke. Bianca couldn't be dead. She just turned 21. She still had her whole life to live. No. She couldnt be gone. She just couldnt. But despite my denial, she was.
We released white balloons that Friday night at Tucson High School's homecoming football game, in Bianca's honor. And once I finally started to slowly accept the fact that maybe Bianca was truly gone, she paid me a visit. Well, sorta.
That night, I had three dreams. In the first dream, I was at our old high school, waiting in the deserted quad, for Bianca. But she never showed. In the second dream, I was at an open deserted mall, waiting to meet up with Bianca so we could continue our shopping excursion. She sent a text to my BlackBerry phone, saying she would only be a few more minutes, but in the end, she never showed. In the third and final dream, outside a small French cafe, I waited for Bianca. She made a phone call, promising to show, but before I could catch a glimpse of my dearly departed friend, I awoke.
I didnt know what to make of my strange dreams. Everyone around me was convinced the reason Bianca couldnt visit me, was because she was having too much fun in heaven and though that should've been reason enough for bygones to be bygones, it wasnt.
Even when I saw Bianca laying in her immaculate satin-lined coffin, I kept expecting her to jump up and apologize to her family, her friends, and our entire graduating class, for playing such a cruel joke. I couldnt fully grasp the concept that she was really gone. She looked exactly the same in the photographs I had taken, just a little paler, a little tired, and a little sad.
This wasnt supposed to happen. I wasnt supposed to see my old high school classmates for another eight more years, when it was our 10-year reunion. But one classmate I was happy to see was my old friend Kelly...or would've been, had I actually gotten the chance to talk to her, before she left. As the funeral began to slowly dwindle down, I left, leaving the photographs I took of Bianca with her mom, and just a little more acceptance and understanding that she was really gone.
That night, before I went to sleep, I started to talk to both God and Bianca. It was a confusing sorta talk, as I was already half-asleep, and half-drunk, but somehow I managed to have a full conversation. Which came to an abrupt end when I asked Bianca for a sign to let me know she was really ok. I, of course, changed my mind and ixnay-ed my strange request, because I rememebered I get spooked real easily by spooks, and ended the spiritual conversation with a snore.
The next morning, I got my sign. There it was, on my French Colony desk, a year-old post-it with Kelly's number, that I thought I had lost, long ago. I had cleaned out the contents of my entire desk a week ago, unearthing both a giant scatter of forgotten papers, and the very unlikely, but very possible, resting place of the post-it. The very fact that I discovered Kelly's number, only a few hours after I asked Bianca for a sign, unnerved me. Was it possible, my mortal friend had become immortal and visited me in the night? Or was my dream and post-it sign just a matter of odd coincidences?
They say that hearts and clocks slow down as they approach the speed of light, the point in which matter is converted into energy. Bianca's heart approached that speed last Thursday, converting her matter into energy. Into pure white light. Though Bianca was no longer with us, was it at all possible that she was still around us?
Of course, at the time, I took those words with the proverbial grain of salt, not fully understanding how powerful they were. And without giving it a second thought, I photographed an entire roll of film, using my high school crush, Bianca Moreno, as my subject.
After we graduated from high school, Bianca was diagnosed with a tumor in her leg, that transformed into cancer. She had been battling with the disease for the past three years, losing her hair, but not her spirit. It was strange seeing my friend with a colorful Pucci scarf over her head, where her long hair should have been, but what wasn't strange was how optimistic we all were about Bianca making it through. Sadly though, she didnt, and late, last Thursday night, Bianca passed away.
When Madelaine called me to tell me the bad news of our dear friend, I almost thought she was playing a really cruel joke. Bianca couldn't be dead. She just turned 21. She still had her whole life to live. No. She couldnt be gone. She just couldnt. But despite my denial, she was.
We released white balloons that Friday night at Tucson High School's homecoming football game, in Bianca's honor. And once I finally started to slowly accept the fact that maybe Bianca was truly gone, she paid me a visit. Well, sorta.
That night, I had three dreams. In the first dream, I was at our old high school, waiting in the deserted quad, for Bianca. But she never showed. In the second dream, I was at an open deserted mall, waiting to meet up with Bianca so we could continue our shopping excursion. She sent a text to my BlackBerry phone, saying she would only be a few more minutes, but in the end, she never showed. In the third and final dream, outside a small French cafe, I waited for Bianca. She made a phone call, promising to show, but before I could catch a glimpse of my dearly departed friend, I awoke.
I didnt know what to make of my strange dreams. Everyone around me was convinced the reason Bianca couldnt visit me, was because she was having too much fun in heaven and though that should've been reason enough for bygones to be bygones, it wasnt.
Even when I saw Bianca laying in her immaculate satin-lined coffin, I kept expecting her to jump up and apologize to her family, her friends, and our entire graduating class, for playing such a cruel joke. I couldnt fully grasp the concept that she was really gone. She looked exactly the same in the photographs I had taken, just a little paler, a little tired, and a little sad.
This wasnt supposed to happen. I wasnt supposed to see my old high school classmates for another eight more years, when it was our 10-year reunion. But one classmate I was happy to see was my old friend Kelly...or would've been, had I actually gotten the chance to talk to her, before she left. As the funeral began to slowly dwindle down, I left, leaving the photographs I took of Bianca with her mom, and just a little more acceptance and understanding that she was really gone.
That night, before I went to sleep, I started to talk to both God and Bianca. It was a confusing sorta talk, as I was already half-asleep, and half-drunk, but somehow I managed to have a full conversation. Which came to an abrupt end when I asked Bianca for a sign to let me know she was really ok. I, of course, changed my mind and ixnay-ed my strange request, because I rememebered I get spooked real easily by spooks, and ended the spiritual conversation with a snore.
The next morning, I got my sign. There it was, on my French Colony desk, a year-old post-it with Kelly's number, that I thought I had lost, long ago. I had cleaned out the contents of my entire desk a week ago, unearthing both a giant scatter of forgotten papers, and the very unlikely, but very possible, resting place of the post-it. The very fact that I discovered Kelly's number, only a few hours after I asked Bianca for a sign, unnerved me. Was it possible, my mortal friend had become immortal and visited me in the night? Or was my dream and post-it sign just a matter of odd coincidences?
They say that hearts and clocks slow down as they approach the speed of light, the point in which matter is converted into energy. Bianca's heart approached that speed last Thursday, converting her matter into energy. Into pure white light. Though Bianca was no longer with us, was it at all possible that she was still around us?
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