Stirlingshire, Balfron High School
My Friend Matthew
My friend Matthew died on May in 2015 from a brain tumour. As I stood at the foot of his grave staring at the place he lay. He didn’t have a headstone yet, just a sign saying:
To our son, brother, friend, cousin and nephew.
Love to you, Matthew
I remember the graveyard and the sunny day I stood there clutching my bike helmet having cycled all the way there to say a fair ‘hello’ and ‘fair well’. I stood on where my friend slept. Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping. There comes a time where you don’t feel too sad about the moment and time you had. People tend to remember his death rather than his life.
He was the best goalkeeper there ever was and I remember him winning the 2 football cups! He was a true hero when he came back. Matthew got his brain tumour the summer of p6 to p7 and that he felt really unwell. One of the most recent memories was when he had his chemo therapy and he lost all his hair.
Matthew was quite small and was always keen to play sport. He was a very giggly person and there was permanently a smile on his face. But what I sometimes think is out of the 7 billion people on this earth, it had to be him. MY friend Matthew.
I remember his funeral and the dragon. The funeral was long and sad, not like Matthew at all but it was an amazing turn out. Nearly everyone in Kippen was in the hall. I think there comes a time where you have cried all your tears and all your sorrow and sadness is used up and filled in with the happy memories. But like everyone who has died ,there is always sadness. We sung you’ll never walk alone as he was a true football guru.
After the funeral everyone went to the pub, as you do, and there were sweets on the tables that the children happily took into their safe keeping. After a few minutes everyone was really happy again and there were kids running about playing tig and having fun. Like my friend Matthew would have liked it. But what struck me most of all was the dragon. My friend Matthew’s dragon. It was a masterpiece made by Matthew’s cousins. Matthew loved dragons and we always played games like that. Beforehand everyone had written something on a ‘scale’ for the dragon. I had written:
To my friend Matthew, the best of all my friends.
The scales were then stuck to the dragon to make a giant picture. I swear it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I helped stick up the scales and it was brilliant.
I remember his football and playing minecraft at his house. Not to mention the time I got his goalkeeper gloves stuck ON the roof! It was a long story. And he always wandered about class spreading happiness and joy to everyone and his smile and football and games….
He was truly amazing, my friend Matthew, he was, absolutely amazing. But here’s a message my friend Matthew. Something for you to keep with you till I join you. Matthew
At the end of the funeral everyone sang you’ll never walk alone. And here it is Matthew.
You’ll never, ever, walk alone again.
Nosy
Nosy, lovable, all that and more
Interested she was,
Always wanted to know.
Always skirts, never trousers, no.
Nails polished, smile gleaming,
Laughter, chatter,
These are the things that matter.
Remembrance
Remembrance.
A simple word in itself but with the power to conjure up images. Images bursting with emotions.
Memories of joy and memories of anger.
These memories are important.
Important to keep us from forgetting.
Important to reduce the impact of emotional pain.
Remembrance.
Bringing different feelings for all of us.
But all equally important.
The pure strength of happy memories is given to you; the most precious of gifts.
Words.
Pictures.
Magic.
As fresh as a breath of wind, and as deep as the ocean.
The power is untameable.
Remembrance.
Nana
My Nana lived in Tipperary in Ireland. Her house was in the middle of nowhere but it was about a mile from a small village called Grange. She was quite small. She had short brown hair and she wore a lot of perfume. She looked after her Mum whose house was about 100 yards from hers.
She loved watching rugby and hurling and Gaelic football. She was a good cook and she always kept her house tidy. She was quite strict but in a nice way and I think she would like to be remembered for being the best and being really kind and caring.
Memories
Memories are like old clothes. You can put them to the back of your mind, fold them away in hidden drawers and forget they are there.
Then one day you see something, hear something, and you remember where you put them. You brush the dust away carefully, because memories are fragile things that can fade away like footprints in the sand if left alone for too long.
As you shake them out, you notice the holes that were not there before, and you find that you can no longer remember where you saw them last. You cannot recall what you talked about, and you do not know what made them laugh.
These details have worn away in the endless reach of time. But although some memories have slipped away, many more remain. You remember the way they loved their pets. You remember the way their face lit up like a candle when they smiled. And you can’t remember what you said to them in your many conversations, but you know how they made you feel.
These are the things that remain, because these are the things that matter.
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