I was at a 21st birthday party and my phone began to ring. I looked down at the phone and saw that it was my mom. I quickly excused myself and went outside. When I picked up, she said, "I just wanted to let you know that the other night, Nick Klein died." I froze. I took in a deep breath and said, "What? But..." My mom replied, "I know. I'm still in shock. But yeah, Nick died." I had to stop the tears from flowing right there so I could hear the rest of the story. We talked about the Klein family, and what I had heard recently about Nick. I brought up a few memories and we both expressed our shock of the whole situation. My mom told me when the funeral was and she said, "You don't have to go, but -" I instantly cut her off, "I'm going Mom. I'll be there." It felt right. I felt like I needed to pay my respects to a dear friend and go visit a life and people that I hadn't seen in years.
I remember crying a little bit as I stood outside the restaurant. I had so many mixed feelings. I had to get back to the party, but at the same time, I wanted to just sit outside and cry. I collected myself a bit, and went back to the party. My attitude was definitely a bit different, but I did my best to stay cheerful.
That night, I cried for Nick. I remembered all the times we played as kids together, all the times we carpooled together, how we used to go to the park and Nick would always skate ahead because he was much better at roller blading than I was. Since I was such a tom boy, I'd pull Nick's hair sometimes, because that was his weakness and I could always make him cry for mercy. When his and his brothers came in, Nick usually marched in first, and the other 3 followed suit. Nick and I would tease our younger siblings and we played video games together often. As far as childhood friends, Nick was it for me.
But as we got older, we began to go our separate ways. Nick began to be interested in girls and start dating, and I was more about just playing sports and having fun. And soon, I just went to a totally different high school altogether, and didn't see anyone again for quite a while.
The funeral was heartbreaking. I just remember sitting there, thinking, "Nick should be here. Why isn't he here? He should be here." There were times where the tears would just stream down my face and my mom would hand me a tissue to quickly wipe away my tears. The hardest part though was watching the casket go down the aisle. I could barely stand there as I watched the box that held my friend's body go past me. It was the final goodbye for me. 'Goodbye Nick' I thought, and with that, he was gone.
The last time I had talked to Nick was about a month or two ago. It was before I left for Chicago. We talked on Facebook about how we should meet up again and hang out like we used to as kids. I told him how I never smoked weed before and he was like, "Really? Well, you should. I'll do it with you Hannah." I laughed, thinking I probably won't ever smoke weed, but Nick's offer was funny and how I just wouldn't mind hanging out with him again. He told me about his addictions and down spiraling emotions. I urged him to hang in there and that I had his back and if I could help, I would. He said he appreciated the comments and was glad he could talk to me again.
I remember Nick now because I posted a Facebook status about my annoying car insurance extravaganza. I saw how many people liked it and thought, "I bet Nick would like this status. I wonder when he'll like it." But I caught myself. Nick wasn't here to like the status. My heart filled with grief for a moment and a tear fell down. I talked to a friend about it and she said, "I bet Nick likes it from heaven Hannah." That thought made me smile. Yeah, I bet he likes it from heaven.
So here's to you Nicholas Patrick Klein. Here's to all our carpool rides, our silly jokes, our brother & sister relationship, the way we teased and made fun of each other the way kids do, the way you always ran ahead of me on your bike or rollerblades or scooter, the times we went swimming together, and so much more. Rest in peace bro. I know you're in a better place now. You were a great guy. Thanks for everything.
