Tuesday, September 22, 2020
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Ryanne called me Jim.
If we are close you call me Jimmy. If you know me through school or work you call me James. If you are part of me, close family, best friends, then you call me Jim.
Ryanne called me Jim. She would say it to get my attention, she would say it in disapproval of a joke I cracked. She would say it with sadness in her voice when a girl I liked wasn't into me and there was nothing she could do about it.
We walked the streets of Hook together. We were young and finding our place in the world. I was growing my hair out and looking greasy and disheveled but it was kind of my thing at the time. Ryanne, was the total opposite. Her piercing blue eyes, hair sprayed and pulled back, fresh Adidas on her feet just looking almost out of place in our little oil refining town. She was beautiful in every sense of the word.
What made Ryanne most beautiful was how she would hang with us all. She would rock along with the kids, like me, in the Korn shirts but also hang with the kids that made fun of us. Hahaha. Its funny to look back and think of her humility in those days. She had enemies, dont get me wrong, but for the most part, you were happy when you seen her coming.
I will only ever remember her that way 12-13ish. I was growing up and leaving PA when things were getting really bad. I thank God for that. This is how I want to remember her.
The curious, confident girl who was coming of age right alongside her wierd cousin and their freinds on the streets of Marcus Hook. Those are the chapters of her life that I wish I could read aloud with her again.
