I met Marc at the age of two, at our babysitter Winnie's. There were many kids there of various ages, including my sisters, and Marc and I developed the typically antagonistic relationship of three year olds of the opposite gender. Occasionally, when I was lucky, I could convince the other kids at Winnie's to play 'Kingdom and Castle' a role-playing game that I made up. Given that it was an RPG designed by a four year old, it was rather unsophisticated. Marc was typically cast as a knight, and I was generally a kidnapped princess that needed rescuing (see why it was difficult to convince other kids to play this game?) But, Marc generally seemed pretty happy to act out a character, which was a part of his personality that endured. I loved him for this, and by kindergarten, I had a total kindergarten crush. In response, Marc and the other boys would chase me around the school yard calling me "Ashley King of the Ashes", a nickname I still find strange to this day. In turn, I called him “Marc King of the Markers”.
My Kindergarten French Immersion class was tiny, and over the years, as we grew up, it continued to shrink until only five of us remained. As a result, we all knew each other well, and had many memories together. When we went to Harriston Senior, for some reason my friend Lindsay and I rarely managed to make it to the bus stop in time. Marc would wait at the corner of
Marc had an individuality that was unique among kids in puberty. At an age when we were all desperately trying to fit in, Marc continued on, unconcerned about what people thought of him. In grade 9, when someone told Marc that his acid-wash, wide thigh, tight ankle jeans were very much not in style anymore, he shrugged and said they were comfortable. He couldn't have cared less. I envied that in him. To be so unselfconscious at a time when most of us were cringing with embarrassment on a regular basis seemed incredibly brave to me.
In the 10th grade, some friends and I took on the
I am so grateful for the countless memories I have of my childhood, and growing up in French Immersion in our tiny town. I am grateful for my memories of Winnie’s, and of Kindergarten, and of riding the bus to Harriston Senior. And of course, I am grateful for every memory I have of Marc, because when someone with a charming, large, kind personality like his leaves us suddenly, the only recourse is in the stories we share, and the memories we keep. By continuing to share and remember, lost friends are never truly lost.
Rest in peace, old friend.
For someone that knew Marc from only 2004, this is awesome. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteHe is and will be missed.
- Simon