Kyle, Entry #2

  On one of the first track practices of the year after finishing my workout I looked on as my friend Kyle collapsed to the ground. The coaches called an ambulance and got the rest of the team inside finishing practice early. We left thinking Kyle had an ordinary seizure and would be okay. Later that weekend my friend Ryan told me Kyle had a heart attack and was in critical condition and asked if me and a few other members of the track team were willing to go visit him and his family. 

  That Sunday Ryan,Matt, Mike and I drove to Westchester Hospital and entered the waiting room. The place was filled wall to wall with Kyles relatives, some of the nicest people I've ever met, seeming noticeably shaken but still optimistic. In the room Kyle was still unconscious and his mother was next to him playing him music from his iPod. She told us the Doctor expected a slow but full recovery. We went back outside, signed a book of get well notes and tried to alleviate the tension in the room with small talk about the basketball game on the TV, or some of our best memories of Kyle, then left to make room for a group of girls holding balloons and an oversized get well card, again thinking everything would be okay.

  The next morning I walked into school and a girl who was a close friend of Kyle's told me through tears and gasps that all members of the track team were to go to the auditorium. I knew what had happened. I walked to the auditorium slowly, telling myself it could be something else, but the pit in my stomach kept growing and I was already starting to cry. I was able to hold back my tears until after the announcement when the track Coach brought me in for a hug and told me it would be okay. In that moment, seeing a man as strong as Coach Bartlett brought to tears made me face reality. Everything rushed to the surface, Kyle, someone I had known for years, played baseball with, rode the bus with, went swimming with, joked with, just seen the day before, being told he was going to be alright was gone. One of the most genuinely kind people I have ever known was gone.

  The days and weeks after Kyle's death were hard to say the least, but when I look back at them now they aren't characterized by my grief or the grief of his friends. What I remember most are the actions made by the community to make sure nobody had to go through this alone. People were brought together in remembrance by memorial services and group therapy sessions. I talked to people I barely knew like I had known them my whole life. I reached out to others and others reached out to me. 

 This experience taught me the value of a strong community, and the importance of not being afraid to open up to others when you need help. Kyle was a friend to everyone who knew him, and we should all make Kyle live on by trying our best to act a little bit more like him.