Power of Losing Innocence

I lost my innocence at the age of 14.

Although this may appear as an over dramatic statement, I can assure you that losing a friend to meningitis at that age was a profound experience.

It was the first day of March break, a time where people usually go off on holiday for a week in the sun, and I was given news that one of my friends at school had been diagnosed with meningitis. And what’s more, she was in a coma.

As my mother shared this shocking news with me, I could only think of her funeral. I could see it clearly. My year at BSS would stand in tears surrounding her grave. In shock at how young she was; we would morn together.

We were told that if we had been in close contact or shared a drink with her it was crucial that we take a special type antibiotic. I refused to take it. To this day, I don’t know why but something in me said, “If it’s your time, you will get sick too but you do not need to take the pills”. I listened to my gut and luckily I am still alive today.

What was interesting is that the pills got me thinking about whether I had been in close contact with her. So I kept asking myself questions. “When was the last time I saw her?”….”What did I say?”…”Where were we?”….”What were we doing?”

Suddenly it hit me that we had been in science class a few weeks earlier and being the type of person that she was, she had said something funny. I then distinctly remember going over to her, kissing her forehead and saying, “Kristen, I love you!”

This last memory is what helped me get through the next 10 days.

On day 4 of Kristen Foley’s coma I shared my concern about her death with a close friend of mine. I kept thinking, “What if she doesn’t make it? What if she dies?” With certainty and confidence my friend assured me that she would be ok, Kristen was strong and would come out of this.

I noticed a difference in myself after that, I had been given hope and now I believed Kristen would make it.

On day 7 I heard news that if Kristen were to live she would have severe brain damage, and the Kristen we all once knew would never live again. I cried myself to sleep that night thinking of how hard it would be to have her at school, in a wheelchair without the humour and life that made Kristen who she was.

On day 9 I was sitting in my kitchen talking with a friend about whether a boy liked me or not, and at that time, it was a pretty big deal. Then I received a phone call from my friend Julie who sounded like she had just seen a ghost. The conversation went something like this…

“Hey Julie, what’s up???!!”

“Ummm, hi Quinn…haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what crazy lady?”

“Kristen died.”

My heart stopped. After hanging up the phone quite abruptly I didn’t know what to do, who to look at or what to say. Kristen Laura Foley had lost her life at the age of 14.

I started thinking about the many times I passed by her locker in the morning and how I would never see her standing by it ever again. I would never see her again.

Looking back, I realize how firmly I was shocked into reality. We are mortal, we will die and unfortunately, Kristen did.

That night I went to see a movie to get my mind off of what had happened. On the walk home I realized that I had forgotten my scarf, so my friend and I went back to find it. Sadly, we left again empty handed. As we approached my house I started to freak out claiming that my mother would “kill me” because she had just bought it for me at Christmas. My friend Natalie tried to remind me that the scarf wasn’t a big deal and that my friend had just lost her life, but it wasn’t until she said, “Your innocence is lost. You will never be the same again” that I stopped in my tracks.

She was right. I forgot about the scarf and decided right then and there that I had to stop worrying about trivial things and choose to live my life to the very fullest. I had to live every day as though it were my last. Kristen had lost her life and I was lucky to be alive.

To this day, her funeral remains vivid in my memory. It was NOTHING like I thought it would be. My year from BSS was not standing around; in fact, very few people were there as it was supposed to be closed. I am not quite sure why I ended up standing in the deep snow laid upon Mount Pleasant Cemetery that day but I am thankful that I was.

As the casket lowered into the grave I watched her mothers face; her eyes squinted, her lips quivered and heavy tears rolled down her cheeks. She reached her arm out as if to touch Kristen for the very last time, but knew she just had to let go. At that moment my focus shifted, I looked over at her 4 year-old sister who would never know Kristen, who would hardly remember the light she shined on those around her.

I think about her a lot – almost everyday. Each year on the 18th of March I try to go to Mount Pleasant Cemetery where she was laid to rest. Some years I even go on her birthday to bring her flowers.

During Kristen’s life she changed a lot of people but through her death she continues to help me and many others grow.

I can only hope that somehow she knew, somehow she was aware of her impact on my life…if not then, maybe now.

Kristen, I love you.