This was taken when I visited her in FL over winter break in our sophomore year of high school. Chrystal always had the most gorgeous hair; she knew it, and she loved it. I always loved braiding her beautiful, thick, luscious hair.She's wearing my Beatles, Hey Jude shirt in this picture. I eventually turned this shirt into a purse with yellow checkered lining.
In loving memory of Chrystal Lynn Schulte
May 17, 1987 - December 21, 2016
Last year, right before Christmas, I received a note from Chrystal's other childhood best friend, I didn't check it right away. I can't explain why, I saw the notification bubble pop up on my phone but didn't check it right away. Later that night my sister called me, I guess she had seen a post from one of Chrystal's sisters. She told me that Chrystal had passed away. I have never felt a shock like this before. It felt like...I don't even know how to describe it.
I tried to remember the last time we talked. It had been at least a couple of years, I thought.
After I moved back home to Rockford, I kinda fell into a depressive and self-loathing spiral. I disconnected from a lot of the bright and loving people in my life because I felt like such a failure in my attempt at pursuing a career in academia. That's another story for another time, but communication with my Chrystal was one of the ones that had dwindled away, and as time passed by, I just continued to get lost my own everyday struggles. The last time I spoke to Chrystal was right before I moved back to Rockford. That was 2013.
I don't know what her life had been like since the last time we spoke, but after I heard the news I realized how much we had both needed each other. That filled me with a lot of guilt, something I continue to struggle with.
I reached out to her sisters and to our friend who told me in that message I had subconsciously avoided opening. I called her dad. We both grew up being daddy's girls, talking to him solidified the reality of losing her. We shared a grief-ridden chuckle over listening to The Beatles in her memory.
I spent the next couple of days going through my box of old photos, letters, and cards from my youth and the years where I was moving every year while I was in college. It took me days because I kept breaking down in a torrent of tears and deep heartbreak. Just seeing her handwriting, without even reading the words, sent me into a painful, heartbroken tear-fest. I just kept saying, "I love you Chrystal, I'm so sorry you're gone, I'm so sorry you were in so much pain, I love you Chrystal, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me," over and over and over again.
I told her sisters that I wanted to be there to say goodbye and that I would be there for anything they needed. Chrystal and I were like family when we were growing up. She always told me how much she loved having family dinners with us. We loved having her, too. Her sister told me they were going to have her cremated and plant a tree for her on her birthday, to celebrate her life.
Singing and Dancing Barefoot
I first met Chrystal in the fourth grade, in our first year in the Creative and Performing Arts program. I was so quiet and she was so loud, we became friends early, but really got close in middle school. There was a time when all of my friends ditched me and called me all kinds of horrible things, Chrystal was the one who stuck by me.
Chrystal introduced me to music. My parents never really listened to music growing up, which was weird because my dad grew up playing instruments, even went to the Berklee College of Music for a year before he lost himself in their church (again, another story for another time); and my mom was constantly singing. They played the music from their church's repertoire. But nothing I ever got excited or moved by.
Chrystal introduced me to The Beatles, Simon & Garfunkel, Carole King, Bob Marley, Joan Baez, Janis Joplin, Led Zeppelin, all the greats from when our parents were young, but her parents actually shared. We loved The Beatles more than anything. We both loved George Harrison, deeply. We used to walk to each others & our friends' houses singing our favorite songs, barefoot because we both hated wearing and looking for our shoes, and our feet definitely showed it.
"One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain" -Bob Marley
I loved that girl more than anyone or anything. She was my best friend.
I remember the day when George Harrison died, I got to school a little later than her, I don't remember why. It was our freshman year in high school. We had English first period. I got to the classroom and someone stopped me and told me that Chrystal was in the classroom crying. I was like, AH! Why! What's wrong?! So I ran into the classroom and she told me what happened. Our teacher let us sit in the hallway and mourn until we were ready to go into class.
I remember in middle school we were staying after school to work on a dance for class or a show, but we were so distracted and not feeling it. So we choreographed a super silly little dance to "All Together Now," by The Beatles. Some of the moves became our favorite inside jokes. We were cracking each other up so bad as we were dancing and combining pantomime chopping actions in sequence with a little chaine turn. At one point we were literally rolling on the floor laughing. We always had so much fun dancing together.
Did I mention that our love for The Beatles was a cornerstone of our friendship? I don't remember what grade we were in, it might've still been eighth grade, but it could've been our freshman year, we got to see a Beatles cover band called Rain at our local theatre. We both had a love for theatre, the stage, and live music, but when you added The Beatles in a concert atmosphere, that was it. It was cloud nine. They weren't quite as adorable as the originals, but it was as close an experience as we could have, both having been born in 1987. My mom bought us tickets and joined us for the show. Chrystal and I were both so excited for the months leading up to the show; we brushed up on lyrics, imagined what songs we thought they'd sing, and which ones we really hoped they'd sing. The night of the show was a blast, we were singing and dancing along in the tight rows of the Coronado, we even had pretty great seats, especially with all three of us being short. It was such a wonderful night.
"Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you" -Simon & Garfunkel
At the end of our freshman year in high school, I choreographed a dance to "Old Friends/Bookends," by Simon and Garfunkel for the senior class baccalaureate ceremony before graduation. I began choreographing it as a solo, but one day when we were hanging out listening to the song, I knew it was supposed to be a duet, and that we had to perform together. Our dance teacher let us raid the costume shop for the perfect dresses. They were long and flowy, had a little color and an asymmetrical sleeve design. They were beautiful, and perfect for the lyrical-modern choreography. I still haven't been able to listen to that whole song without crying.
First she moved, and then I did
Chrystal moved to Florida after our freshman year of high school. We knew it was coming for months so we made the most of the time we had left. We also made a promise to write to each other. This was before the social media explosion, I'm not sure if we were even on mypsace yet. So we wrote letters to each other and she always sent me a card on my birthday. She was much better at that than I was. I loved receiving her letters, and I loved writing letters to her and my other best friend that moved away after freshman year. She always incorporated lyrics in her sentences which is basically how we spoke to each other anyway. Reading the musical lines woven into her words was one of the most beautiful, and heartbreaking parts about going through my memory box after she died. I can't think about her or our friendship without basically a whole 3 disc-set long soundtrack. Music was everything to her.
I was working at the local Beef-A-Roo at the time, so I saved up some money and bought a plane ticket to visit her over winter break. I spent about a week down there. We didn't do a lot of typical Florida activities because neither of us drove yet. So we spent a lot of time just hanging out together, taking some walks, listening to and singing our favorite songs. We did make it to the beach a couple of times, but it was cold because it was December. We sat, she played a little volleyball, we enjoyed the view of the beach while singing "America," by Simon & Garfunkel, and "Ruca," by Sublime.
I got to visit her one more time in South Carolina. It was after my first year in college, and she just had her second son. It was a quick visit because I was with my dad and brother, we were visiting my aunt in North Carolina, but I had to make a stop to see her. Even though it was a really quick visit, it was so good to see her. She was stressed but we shared some meaningful conversations.
It's been so long since saw her. She came out to Illinois for a family wedding once, I'm not sure what year it was, but I got to see her briefly. I remember that she was feeling stressed and kinda low about her life. At that point we were better at keeping in touch through Facebook, and that's what our friendship became after a while. I was preoccupied with school and anything I could do to keep busy and learn. She was busy being a mother of two boys. Life was just taking both of our focus and energy...but there's no excuses, we lost touch. We continued to comment and "like" each others posts and pictures, shared a conversation over messenger periodically. But honestly that feels like a rationalization on my part. I lost touch, but she never left my heart.
"You'll be in my heart, always" Phil Collins
Saying Goodbye
Her family held a memorial and planted a cypress tree with her ashes on her birthday this year, May 17, 2017. She would have been 30.
I have traveled solo many times in my life; by plane, train, bus, and car. I've done it, I'm comfortable with it, actually I usually enjoy it. This was a different kind of trip, though. I spent the months leading up to the trip in a mixture of suppressing my grief, procrastinating on making my actual travel arrangements. I wanted to send her sisters the pictures that I had of Chrystal before the memorial, but I really procrastinated on that one, I got them to her a matter of days before the memorial. Every time I tried to open that box I just lost myself sobbing. I think a lot of that came from the cloud of questions I had about her life since the last time we talked. It came and went in tsunami level waves. I would be watching my niece and nephew or driving to the grocery store or washing dishes, just doing every day things and a lyric or a melody would wander into my head and remind me of her, and I'd just start crying. I'd feel a deep weight that also felt like a giant hole in my heart, it would migrate into my throat and I'd just start sobbing. It was already April before I actually booked my flight and lodging.
Booking my travel arrangements made it real. I think that's when I started accepting that I would never see her again, that I would never hear her full blown cackle, that I would never see her smile or braid her hair again.
The next few weeks were tough, I had my grief processing in the background of my mind and my heart, while my living situation erupted. I used my planning habits to help me deal with preparing myself for the trip to say so long. I made a detailed packing list so I wouldn't have to worry about it on the day before my flight. I wrote out all of my travel arrangement details in neat little boxes to allude myself into thinking I had control over something.
Travel day came and I just told myself I had to keep it together until I got on the plane. I slept on the bus to the airport, then went into travel mode until I got situated at my gate. I always get a window seat if I can when I'm flying; watching the streets and trees and houses and yards geting smaller and smaller puts me into a big ideas/reflection kind of mindset. I hummed "America" and "The Only Living Boy in New York" to myself while we ascended through and into the clouds until I fell asleep.
The gravity of being back in Florida to say fare well to my Chrystal hit me hard on my drive to the AirBnB I reserved. It was a tear-filled drive. Thank goodness for Google Maps navigation. The room fell through, but that allowed me to spend the time I was there with Chrystal's family. It had been so long since I'd seen any of them. Her sisters were both little kids when I last saw them. Her youngest sister and cousin met me when I pulled up to the hotel parking lot and greeted me with the warmest and brightest smiles and hugs. We spent the night between the hotel room patio and the beach, sharing memories, laughs, tears, hugs, and dances. Her dad and I sang some of her favorite songs together. It was right for our girl.
The next day we hit a few bumps, but we got it together and met the whole family at Chrystal's other sister's house. She created a beautiful and tidy arrangement with Chrystal's picture, a guestbook box, and a collection of smooth stones for writing messages to our girl and her tree. I wrote a quote that my sister shared with me shortly after we found out that Chrystal passed away. It was something that I kept saying to myself after I learned about her family's plan to plant a tree with her ashes. After I wrote my piece I just held the rock in my hand, close to my heart, trying to fill my rock with my love for her and her tree. I wanted to share my love with her ashes and new roots as she grows into a beautiful tree with a long life in her family's home.
"New life makes losing life easier to understand" -my sister, not sure where she got it...
When we gathered to plant her and cypress tree, I couldn't find my words. They had been running through my head and my heart for months, but when I was standing there with her family I was overwhelmed with heartache. I wanted to share something with everyone, but I could barely open my mouth to make a word without sobbing. I shared hugs, tears, and memories with her family after she was planted, though. When "Your Song" by Elton John started playing, her cousin and I shared tears and memories about when we were young and used to hang out in the summer. At some point after the planting, I went back to sit by Chrystal's tree and set my rock by her base with all the love and positive growth intention I could find in my heart. The whole experience was heartbreaking and heartwarming in waves, it would hit me over and over that she was gone, then I'd be sitting with someone in her family sharing stories and notice that I had been replenished with love.
I spent the last hour or so before I had to head back to the airport at the beach by Chrystal's cousin's hotel. I stood at the water line humming "America" and watching the waves crash against my legs, smelling the open air on the beach, the boats and bird going by in the distance. I laid in the sand and journaled about my feelings, about processing, about grief, about family, about love and friendship, about addiction, about depression, about growth and moving forward with a love and growth mindset, about how I want to keep Chrystal in my heart, my mind, my intention, and my contribution to the world.
She had such a huge impact on my life during the most impressionable period in my life. Chrystal cared deeply about people, she cared about being kind, she would always say how she couldn't understand why people did things solely to be mean or hurtful. She was an extremely sensitive person, like myself; that's why we clicked, that's why music brought us so close together. In the end, I left Florida with more questions than I had when I came, but also with an understanding and on a path to accepting that I would never know all the answers to my questions. I came to the understanding in my head that I had to move forward with all the love, the passion, and the creativity that formed the foundation for our wonderful friendship. She was my best friend, and I can never take back the time that we lost each other in our own lives. I have to continue reminding myself that the sadness, grief, and guilt that I feel when I focus on losing her over time and then once and for all, does not serve her or me or my vision for growth and spreading kindness and creativity in the world. But her memory, her impact, the joy and love we shared when we were dancing or singing, or just walking around the neighborhood, can.
When we are lucky enough to have a friendship that deep, so on-the-same-wavelength, we have to cherish it for every moment it lasts. I learned in the hardest way that relationships and friendships are a two way street, and that if someone is important to you in your life, you cherish that connection. You send a card on her birthday, you call her to catch up, you send her notes when you think of her or something reminds you of her, you tag her in a post that you think will make her laugh. My best friend lost her life and her battle to her addiction before we turned 30. Our lives went in vastly different directions than we dreamed of when we were young and spending every day together, contemplating and being inspired by music that touched our souls. My experience of the stage of acceptance in the grieving process has become a reflection on how I can honor her memory and our friendship. I still haven't struck my golden idea, but she will be honored in my heart in every act of service I share.
"He-e-ey I've got nothing to do to-day, but smile" -Simon & Garfunkel