Something pretty terrible happened. On Sunday I found out one of my good high school friends, John Biasiolli, died just before Thanksgiving. I still don’t know exactly what happened, but it seems extra shocking because we had just gotten back in touch online about 2 or 3 weeks ago. When I heard, I was still looking forward to his reply, and reconnecting with him whenever Dave and I got around to taking that trip to Colorado.
Then I remembered the present John gave me for my 15th birthday — a book of his poems. It would be pretty adorable if I could find it, but I haven’t come across it just yet. This would be circa 1992, so we’re talking about a gloriously cringe-worthy dot matrix-printed anthology, most likely fastened into one of those folders with 3 brads in the center.
This is the part of the story where you find out I was big into letter-writing as a kid. BIG! I remember the day we learned to address an envelope in the 3rd grade, and what 25-cent stamps looked like. My favorite Christmas present from the year I was 9 was a box of pink floral stationery sheets with matching envelopes. If you got a letter written on that, you were pretty important… I really hoarded those sheets, worried I may never have such lovely paper again. Funny the way things go.
I am not overly sentimental, but I somehow had the foresight to keep pretty much every letter ever written to me. And every one was thoughtlessly shoved into an ugly pink and black cherub-covered box I keep on a low shelf in my garage, almost begging to be washed away in a flood.
I found a few things from John — not enough really. A typed letter from the year we went away to different colleges. A home-made birthday card that jokes about how at 15, I could not have kept a secret to save my life. I’m especially glad I held onto a couple of postcards from a trip he took through Europe in college. He was so excited to finally go abroad, and no one deserved it more.
As you can see from this beautiful mess, my own ephemera has been long-neglected. I said “thoughtlessly shoved” above, but the truth is it wasn’t thoughtless at all. I haven’t wanted to look at it for quite some time — I’ve been ignoring it. Ignoring a few things. Because while most of it is hilarious, a little is way too sad. The rest is so embarrassing, I literally cannot look at it yet. But it all tells a too-true story, and it’s time to do something with it that does it that kind of justice. I’m not sure what.
I mean, some of the things I found in that box? There are no words. Notes passed to me in the 7th grade — you know, with the ridiculous hot folding action? A letter typed in November 1991, which references Linda Hamilton hosting Saturday Night Live that weekend (with musical guest Mariah Carey, and had I ever seen this Chris Rock guy because he’s pretty cool). A valentine from Sir Bumblefickle. My creative writing journal from Mrs. Griest-Devora’s class senior year. Love letters I’m not sure I can ever read again.
One of my favorites is this ripped piece of the San Antonio Express News from 1994 advertising the first concert I ever went to: Tori Amos at The Backyard outside Austin — tickets were a whopping $16.50. I can’t believe I kept it! It was her Under The Pink tour. John was most definitely there — he’s the one who turned us all onto her, after all.
I’m not sure where this post is going exactly. All I know is that I haven’t been sleeping. I can’t stop thinking about John and his wife, and family. And that he was only 31 — a Taurus. That’s just a month older than me. What his face looked like. How it could have been any one of us. The night he introduced me to my first love. The fact that I’ve burned a few bridges I’m wishing I could cross. How I’ve reached the age where I’ve realized that this whole time, my parents were just people. And how none of us are exactly what I thought we were. That it’s been way too long. And I’m wondering, why haven’t I been to Colorado? Dave tells me it’s beautiful.
Tick-tock,
Tara
5 comments
Comments feed for this article
December 4, 2008 at 3:39 pm
Kathryn
T –
That was a lovely post. I haven’t unpacked my own ephemera box – thankfully. Otherwise I might have spent sunday afternoon looking through all of my John stuff. And it was hard enough without it. I hadn’t thought about John in a long time – til he popped up on my facebook as well. Sadly I didn’t even send him a note – but now I wish I had.
Don’t be embarassed of your box in the garage – its who you are.
You might forward your entry to John’s wife – I think she would like it.
Good luck sleeping boo.
May 8, 2009 at 4:25 pm
Tara Bonner
Tara -
This is Tara, a year under you in high school. I actually just found out about John today. (May 8th – which seems insane) However, I loved what you wrote. He lent me his copy of Little Earthquakes in the 10th grade… and Tori has been a personal savior – so I cheers to you, for remembering… and a toast to a remarkable teenage boy, and man.
May 12, 2009 at 2:34 pm
things we keep «
[...] 12, 2009 in welcome ghosts Awhile back I posted a little bit about my long-neglected box of funny / sad / incriminating / treasured [...]
June 9, 2009 at 3:40 pm
Travis Nixon
I just found out today; something popped in my head to Google for John. Made me think of visiting him in the hospital when he had the heart problem, and driving around in his car, and a dozen other moments trapped in the recesses of my brain. I don’t know exactly what I’m saying; it’s like a punch in the gut.
It’s strange, the impact of others. I still remember Kathryn’s birthday, of all things (which, as I type it, sounds like something a crazy stalker would type). I still have John’s home phone from high school in my mail program’s contacts. Social-phobe that I am, I wouldn’t have used it, but I kept it nonetheless. It was important somehow, a reminder.
All three of you were important to me, which may seem odder to you than Kathryn or John (or maybe everyone would think it odd, I wasn’t the most forthcoming youth). It was your bond together. Regardless of what happened, you enriched his life then.
Okay, I’ll stop the maudlin intrusion.
June 11, 2009 at 7:51 pm
Tara
I’m actually loving all these maudlin intrusions. Thank you.