I’m gonna keep it real with you. There is nothing you can do to change what’ll happen in the next chapter of your life, just because you don’t turn the pages. I know you’re tired of having to walk through this part of life, and I know that you’re tired of not being heard, but take your time.
Dear Kaleb. The 8th grade Kaleb.
As you sit with your head down in class, getting sleep back from completing homework late at night, I need you to remember things that haven’t even happened yet. It may seem insane, but take your time, and you’ll find out how.
Your whole life, you’ve been running.
You run from how you feel about your family, and the pressure to excel academically keeping you under. You run from how you feel about yourself, shame and guilt encasing your soul. You run from how you feel about your circumstances, knowing that you have nothing, but wanting to be something- but if you can remember, there’s a time when you have to stop running.
When your aunt Bettye died you grieved for a year straight, the image of her body on the floor burned into your memory. You, a 5th grader, stripped of all emotion. You changed from being quiet to talking about everything. After all, when you run so fast and don’t take your time through grief, you can say anything, and not care about anything, because you feel nothing.
But when your grandma dies the wind has your words, not because you ran fast but because it took your breath away. You need to take your time because you can’t run to her coffin and place a kiss on her face one last time. Take your time, because boys run past their grief, men run straight into it, and you might not be ready to do either.
Dear Kaleb,
As you sit in the back of the class, joking with friends and remembering that life is still good, I need you to remember people who haven’t even come to you yet. It won’t seem emphatic, but take your time, and you’ll know.
Your whole life, you’ve been talking.
You talk to yourself about your problems, because the only one who makes real sense to you is you. You talk to your friends about everything, because you need others’ opinions to understand other people. You don’t talk to your family about much, because you don’t want to be influenced by them- but if you can remember, there’s a time when you have to stop talking.
When graduation came you let your tears die, not wanting to cry about the brothers you’d never have again; because when you talk so much and don’t take your time, you say things that you can never take back, but you don’t care, so why would you care?
But when you were left aghast and alone, you only cared about them because having nothing, to begin with, is far different from having the absence of something you once had. Please take your time, because you can’t take words back from people who could care less about what you say. Take your time, because when you don’t have anything for a while, you’ll wish you kept what you gave away.
Dear Kaleb, as you walk across the stage, medals around your neck, lights beaming into your face, I want you to know something. Take your time, because the things and people, negative or positive will always be there. You can’t run forever, you can’t talk forever, because everything has to end.
But some endings can be beautiful.
With the end of your old friendships, you’ll meet new friends who will care more about you and less about what you can do. You’ll meet Ryan, and keep being friends with Alex. With the end of your old relationships, you’ll meet a new person who cares about you and not about how to benefit themselves. You’ll meet a girl, and you’ll learn a lot before you’re ready to say how you feel. (You two will be together though, but that’s beside the point.) Your beginnings may have nothing, and your change may have pain, but your endings will have beauty.
Dear Kaleb, take our time because there’s not that much time to take.
Dear Kaleb, we know life is hard right now, but that’s only because we don’t know how great it will get.
Dear Kaleb, keep it real with us, and take your time.
Sincerely,
Kaleb. The 9th grade Kaleb.
Photo Credits: Matt Houlihan, Science Teacher at Chicago Jesuit Academy
Kaleb Lyons-St. Ignatius-DMSF Class of 2028