a boy named Scott

a boy named Scott - Actions


September 4, 2008

So, I want to write but cannot think of anything remotely interesting about my life today. Despite 3 more deaths after I posted last week, things are looking up at the hospital. The three most recent deaths were merciful in every way. I cannot complain ( I might, but I shouldn't). So, today I was going through pictures and found one I loved. I don't know how to make it smaller for you but here's an oversized version of my friend Scott and I. He called me the other day to remind me that we got in the paper together. Well, we actually got featured in the newspapers together a lot. Scott and I began the first collegiate Relay For Life in the US back in 2000. (Another girl who shall remain nameless thinks she helped but she didn't). We were both college freshmen who, thanks to Relay For Life, became lifelong friends. First I was fascinated by his accent. Buddy is from SOUTH SOUTH Georgia, an unincorporated but lovely town called Rowena. He comes from the sweetest family I've ever met and within weeks of meeting him, I too was referring to his mom and grandmother as Mama and Ma. They were family to me before I ever laid eyes on their precious faces. Anyway, I digress. After a year of crazy, sometimes awful, sometimes joyful experiences, we succeeded in putting on that Relay For Life. It was 40 degrees and raining but we joined a couple thousand college kids and raised over $100,000 to fight cancer. I don't know if that bonded us, or the trips the American Cancer Society sent us on throughout the US to teach others how to do a collegiate event, or if it was our common disdain for nameless girl above or our Cancer Society rep Karen (we love her now). Maybe it was that we were minorities in the wealth we were both surrounded by or if God just meant us to be great friends. I've got my money on the latter.

Well, this week, Scott reminded me of another sad day that is approaching its anniversary next week. Scott and I were sophomores on September 11th, 2001. I was in Spanish class when the planes struck. I forgot where Scott was. Dining hall? We lived in neighboring fraternity/sorority houses and within an hour, both our houses were empty and headed toward the Red Cross to give blood. It remains one of my most proud college memories, to see hundreds of kids lined up to give blood. Scott and I found each other outside the Red Cross and as he'd done a million times before, he wrapped me up in his big country boy hug. It is one of the places I will always find comfort. Well, the Athens-Banner herald saw us and snapped a shot. I still have the tattered photograph. And even though they gave me the wrong name, we both know the girl with the very bad hair in very bad overalls hugging Scott was me. So many of those most important life experiences involved one of those hugs. Blessed is not the word.

So, as we approach the 7 year anniversary, I am baffled by where 7 years went. In that time, Scott and I have remained friends through the toughest of times. He was there for me when dad and Patrick were in Iraq. He was there for me when I was so depressed I couldn't move. He was there for me when I broke up with my boyfriend of 5 years. He was there for me when I lost my grandmothers. He was there for me in these crazy gray 20 something years. Yeah, thank you does not cut it. This last year, I have learned who Scott really is. He suffered an unimaginable loss. I have two words on my bulletin board at work. One name. And every. single. day., I look at it and I see mama's face, and ma's face, and coach's face and mostly Scott's face. I see my friend who is forever changed but remains the surest source of laughter and silliness and love in my life. I'm not sure what God is doing in any of our lives, but I know that every.single.day, someone's life is made better because of Scott. And because you have to give credit where credit is due, I'll thank his mama. She raised 2 amazing boys. Without her, I'd never have gotten the best hugs of my life. Keep the hugs and the laughter coming Scott Lusk.