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When most of my friends graduated last year, I promised myself this would be the best year ever.
I was all set. I was cleaning up my act, my relationship with God was the strongest it’d ever been, and I was all set for the future. I was gonna graduate, go to college, and become a band teacher. This was gonna be the best year ever.
Two Months Before
I’m mowing around the camper park, because that’s just what the Utility Crew does. While I’m mowing, I’m doing some thinking. Then, God’s voice came through loud and clear. He says, “Summer, I don’t want you to be a band teacher.” Okay God, you’re in control. So I’m trying not to sweat it. I still have two more years to figure my future out, and this one will be the best year ever.
Two Weeks Before
We got farther in this band camp than we ever have before! We’ve learned all of our drill, and we even marched and played our opener, “The Heat is On in Saigon.” My dad picks me up and I try to make friendly conversation. I ask him what he did all day; I never should have asked. He tells me my grandma is in the hospital. She had a stroke-induced seizure, and has to live in a nursing home. I know my grandma wouldn’t want me to get worked up about this, so I’m still determined to make this the best year ever.
Two Days Before
I wake up, late as usual, and I start listening to music like I always do. Like most mornings, I do absolutely nothing when the phone rings, assuming my mom will get it if it’s important. This call is important, and my mom does get it. About twenty minutes later, she comes into my room crying. She tells me that last night, my twenty year-old cousin Jonica died. They found several illegal drugs in her system, and have other reason to believe that her boyfriend may have murdered her. She was just starting to turn her life around and become someone, but she never got the chance. For her sake, I’m going to make this the best year ever.
The Day Before
I spend the day volunteering for all the little freshmen. While I’m there, my friends and I are sharing stories from the summer. They tell about all of their adventures around here, and I tell about all the friends I made at Sky Lodge and about my new boyfriend from Alabama. He’s pretty much my dream match, and I think I’m in love. We’ve been texting all morning, even though I’m not allowed to have my phone in school. When I get home, I go to my room to wind down. I turn on some BarlowGirl and pull out my deck of cards. Then my phone goes off. My heart jumps as I hear that familiar ringtone, “Hanging By A Moment.” I open it up, and my heart falls off a cliff. He tells me that, because of the distance, his dad won’t let us be together. As my heart is sinking into the abyss, I can no longer remember my goal. What was it? Oh yes, to make this the best year ever.
When all this happens, it’s almost overwhelming. Some days I feel like I’m carrying the weight of my whole family. For my dad, with the hope that my grandma can recover and adjust to the nursing home well. For my mom, with the grief of her lost niece, and the hope that nothing like that will EVER happen to me. And for myself, that even though Logan wasn’t the one for me, I have the world’s best author writing my love story. Looking at all this I wonder, will this just be another empty promise, or will I still be able to make this the best year ever?
“I can only hope that they’ll turn that anger and frustration and madness into something positive, so that two, three, four, five hundred will step forward, so the gay doctors will come out, the gay lawyers, the gay judges, gay bankers, gay architects … I hope that every professional gay will say ‘enough’, come forward and tell everybody, wear a sign, let the world know. Maybe that will help.” Harvey Milk, 1978