“Summer, this is Jennifer, Zach’s mom. I don’t know quite how to say this… but Zach passed away. They found him yesterday morning. He died the same way his sister died. I found your number in his phone and I knew you would want to know. I know how much he cared about you…”

***

I met Zach my sophomore year of high school at the first “sock hop” social event. His bright eyes, playful smile and sweet personality lured me in and instantly I knew we would be friends.

That was 14 years ago.

Zach picking me up for "Spring Formal". It was girls choice, but I was only 15 and couldn't drive.

He is so adorably young here.

Zachary Hall, my oldest and dearest friend, passed away Friday, November 6, 2009.

I got the phone call 30 minutes before I was supposed to run my first 5k.

His passing has been one of the hardest thing I have ever had to face. I can not tell you just how bad my heart is aching right now. I have lost one of my closest friends, a man who has been there for me through thick and thin, a man who has always been “just a friend” but who loved me, and would literally do anything for me. I know this not only from countless examples of his actions, but because he never failed to tell me so.

I am at a loss for what to write. I’ve started this post several times but my words never seem adequate to express my joy for having him in my life; my anger with him for leaving so soon; my sorrow for not getting to say goodbye; my tribute to him for all that he was to me.

I have so many fond memories of him. In high school, besides going to Spring Formal with me, he took me to my first ever formal dance. It was called “Spartonian Ball”.

I'm in flats and he wore his hair 3" taller.

I thought the dance was more formal than it actually was and told him to get a tuxedo. He was the only guy at the dance, outside of the wait staff, wearing one. I was so embarrassed, but he just laughed about it and told me not to worry.

I see this picture and I want so bad to call him and laugh about his hair and baby face, my black nylons and ugly shoes. I want to reminisce and see if he remembers how his mom had to pin the boutonniere on for me or where we went to dinner or if we did an activity after the dance. I want to tell him thank you for wearing a tux because I asked him to – we were 16 and I know neither of us had money.

But I can’t…

I can’t call him because he is gone. He is gone and there is nothing I can do about it. I feel so helpless. I know people will say to just hold on to the memories, and believe me, I am trying. But he is gone, and my heart hurts! Just saying “he is gone” sounds so absurd to me. Why am I even writing this post? Zachs not gone. He can’t be. He is my Zach. How could he let drugs take him from me? How many times did I yell at him? How many times did I tell him that he was worrying me? How many times did he tell me not to worry? This isn’t right. Nothing feels right about it. It’s all wrong! We were supposed to go to lunch together. I missed his call. Why did I miss his call? Why didn’t he answer when I called him back? Why didn’t I try him again? How can he be gone? Why can’t I just call him?

Zach and me camping, Memorial Day 2008. Our last photo together.

I’m sorry this post is all over the place. Maybe it is too soon to have tried to write this. I had planned to tell so many great stories; driving his dad’s fork lift in his shop, drinking vodka in his garage with my sister until we puked and he had to carry us home wrapped in his blanket, his confession about why he really could not take me to Sr. Ball (ten years after the fact!), our failed attempt at community college together, moving me out of a very bad situation after I hadn’t talked to him in six months, and how he was such a loyal selfless friend.

Maybe I’ll write those stories another day… in my hand written journal. I’ll place it on the shelf next to my high school journal, or better yet, next to the entry where I first mention meeting Zach… at the Sock Hop.

Zachary Hall I am going to miss you!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – in case you were wondering, I ran the race. It was incredibly hard and if ED hadn’t of been there I would have been hyperventilating, sobbing uncontrollably in the bushes 1/4 mile in. As it was, I finished with a time of 31:36 and saved my sob fest until I got to my sister’s, 15 minutes after the race.

Summer Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s), NOT light and fluffy