In My Life

Before February of my senior year, I didn’t know how to cry. I prided myself on my thick skin and lack of emotion. Videos on Facebook of soldiers returning home from duty didn’t faze me. My best friend would be in tears in front of me, and I would try to feel empathy, but I couldn’t. On Valentine’s Day that year, my father married for the third time. I was upset knowing he would soon move to another state and sell the home just the two of us had lived in for the last four years, yet I still did not cry.

It wasn’t until four days after his wedding that I learned how to cry.

On Feb. 18, my good friend Marly and I were driving to the mall. I have no memory of why we were going or what we were looking for. As I exited the Turnpike onto May Avenue, Marly read a text she had just received aloud,

“I hate to be the one to say this, but Bubba’s gone.”

Immediately, I did not cry. I tried to tell Marly it was probably a hoax, something I had seen our stupid guy friends do on Twitter before.

The texts kept coming. I tried to pay attention to the road.

Someone said they saw an ambulance in Bubba’s neighborhood.

The texts kept coming.

People are asking if I had heard and if I was all right.

I tried to pay attention to the road.

Finally, we turned around and headed home, because I knew it was true.

Finally, and for the first time in a long time, I cried.

When anyone thinks of Connor Hamilton, known to most as Bubba, they remember the way he made them feel. He had this incredible ability to make everyone he met feel valued. It’s common to only sing praises after someone passes, but I can’t stress enough that when it comes to Bubba, it was all true. He was the nicest guy. He did give the best hugs. His spirit was otherworldly and still so hard to define.

When I think of Bubba, I think of driving around in his Tahoe looking for something to do on a sleepy Friday night in NW Oklahoma City. Of him helping me make the grossest red velvet cupcakes we had ever tasted to celebrate my 16 ½ birthday. Of deciding to be each other’s Valentine’s one year because we were without a real one; he bought me chocolates and I made him cookies. Now when I think of Bubba, I think of the Beatles. In the senseless tragedy of a young life lost, these lyrics give me peace.

“All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall”

It’s hard to understand how a light like Bubba could go out so soon. A light so constant, that burned so bright in my life, I can hardly remember a time without him. From elementary to middle to high school, there he was. On my book of growing up, Bubba was on every page.

“Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I’ve loved them all”

In the wake of tragedy, I thought of his life and all the good he did in 19 years.

We are all here for a purpose. We all have different gifts and talents with which we’re supposed to fulfill some kind of purpose on this earth.

Maybe Bubba’s purpose was simply to make people feel loved. Maybe what would take a normal person a lifetime to accomplish, Bubba accomplished in a mere 19 years. Maybe that’s why he’s not here.

Now, all I can do is treat the people around me the same way Bubba would have. To not judge and accept everyone the way they are. “You do you,” as he would say. I look at my friends, his family, and I see how badly they still hurt. We will not see him again on this Earth. I will never meet another person like Bubba. All I can do is be the friend he was to me, to everyone else. I won’t see him again, but maybe someone will see him in me.

This summer I studied abroad in Madrid for a month. On my final weekend trip in Europe, I made the trek to London to cross one last thing off my bucket list. I walked across Abbey Road, legs wide apart and looking forward, four or five times for the perfect shot, but that still wasn’t it. More importantly, I had to leave my mark on the famous walls of Abbey Road Studios. Where the greatest album by the greatest band of all time was recorded. Most inscriptions were made to lovers accompanied with their favorite Beatles lyric.

I knew mine would be for Bubba.

“But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you.”