I remember it like it was yesterday --
The very last time I ever went outside to play.
We had our fishing poles, our tackle boxes
Sunscreen and two cold cans of Mountian Dew.

We were going fishing.

It was like any other day, more like every day.
We always went fishing on the little bridge
Next to our neighbouring homes.

I never once caught a fish.

Perhaps it was because the lake was polluted and dingy.
Perhaps it was because I was a horrible fisherman.

The sunny sky hid behind some thick, gray clouds
We heard rumbles of thunder in the distance
We felt the soft raindrops hit our rosey sunburned cheeks.

We brought our fishing poles inside.
The day was young
And you can only play Nintendo for so long...
So we played in the rain.

It quickly began to pour as we threw back our heads
With our mouths wide open
And tasted our final day together.

Nothing has ever tasted so bittersweet.

We jumped in puddles,
and we allowed ourselves to get splashed by the
Oncoming traffic.

We gathered cups of water and threw them at each other.
We rolled around in the muddy grass
And laughed harder than we had ever laughed before.

The storm strengthened so we went inside.
Mom was waiting for us with two towels and a chuckle.
We dried off and watched movies
And laughed the rest of the day.

He went back to his new home in Montrose.
I never saw him again.

He died three months later,
At the tender age of twelve.
'Twas my very first loss of life.

The day of his funeral I wore black and flowers.
Mom went back to work when we returned home,
I didn't go back to school.

It rained that day too --
I went outside, drank the falling rain
And said goodbye to him in my very own special way.

I never played outside again,
But when it rains I find myself
Tasting the raindrops, remembering our last goodbye.

Every time it rains, it's more like hello.

08/07/2003

Author's Note: To Anthony James Fahey 1986-1998

Posted on 08/07/2003
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