It was our senior year of high school. I never really noticed JoAnna - not because I didn't want to - but because she really was invisible. She could color herself to her surrondings and disappear into the background. It was very odd.

Maybe odd is the wrong word there.

I thought JoAnna was afraid to be seen. Afraid to talk, afraid to laugh, afraid to cry. She wanted to go through life without anyone watching. Eventually, people didn't even see her anymore.

Anyway, JoAnna's mom got cancer the beginning of senior year. She really didn't have any friends - so she talked to a counselor at school about it. The counselor called me in and told me about her situation. (Which, come to think of it, I think is a violation of confidentiality ... )She asked, since my mother had died of cancer somewhat recently, if I could spend some time with JoAnna. Maybe take her out to a movie once in awhile. Sit with her at lunch. Take her to get some pizza one afternoon.

Of course I said yes. Absolutely. Having been through it, I could empathize. It was hard. And it's the quiet ones that these things hit hardest.

When my parents died, the entire school knew. They even announced my father's death in front of the morning assembly. I was flooded with flowers, teddy bears, and sympathy cards.

In fact, I didn't have to go to first period Religion class for almost two years. My friends and I would go out to breakfast or to the park instead. All I had to say was "I'm sorry I'm late ... but I can't talk about it. I needed my friends to be with me this morning." And we received an immediate excuse from first period class.

Yeah, I milked the orphan thing for everything it was worth. Hey, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade I say.

Especially when said lemonade involves getting out of class.

I was even given a metal when I graduated for maintaining my strength of spirit and sense of humor through such a difficult time. Can you believe that? Unreal. It was sweet and I appreciated the thought but basically they were giving me an award for not killing myself. Which I was down with, G ... but I really didn't need an award to keep me motivated to live because I didn't have any intention of stopping my breathing anytime soon. It had become somewhat of a habit.

But nobody noticed when JoAnna's mother got sick. Noone even bothered to ask how she was doing.

Even me.

Immediately, that day, I found JoAnna. I sat beside her. I talked to her. I invited her out with me.

I spent many weekends of my senior year with JoAnna.

I drove her to get ice cream. We went to the mall. Walked around the gardens. Went to the movies. I took her to poetry readings, coffee shops, art museums.

And she never talked to me.

Which, thank god she was with me, because I can talk enough for the both of us.

And I did. Talk, that is. Alot.

When her mother died ... near the end of the year ... I sent her flowers. I went to her house and parked my car outside the front door. And just sat there. I was too afraid to ask to come to the funeral because I didn't want to intrude but I wanted her to know that I cared. That, even though she didn't know me very well, she was always in my thoughts. I wanted her to know that, in our time together, I had grown quite close to her even though she never said a word.

Anyway, that's the message I hope I conveyed instead of "I'm sitting in my car outside of your house stalking you."

So, graduation came. I knew I was going away and I would never see JoAnna again. I bought her a goodbye card and wrote in it how amazing I thought she was. Even though she never spoke to me, I could sense her spirit. How gentle and kind she was ... and that I had been wrong. I thought that she didn't bring attention to herself because she was afraid - but in reality, she didn't need the attention. She was content for everyone else to be in the spotlight because she didn't need to shine. But, I wrote, she shined anyway. Brighter than almost anyone around her. All you needed to do was look at her. And I regretted that it took me so long to see it.

Then I headed off to the church for our graduation ceremony.

For which, I was late.

So, I'm running down the street, in my gown and cap - hoping against hope that I make it in time for the ceremony ... and I run into another family that is obviously late as well ... but also lost.

They wanted to know where the church was ... so I tell them. I ask what their daughter's name is because, since we're going to the same place, she's obviously a classmate of mine. When they said JoAnna's name ... I was floored.

I said who I was and immediately her father started hugging me. He was damn near tears. He thanked me for spending time with JoAnna and helping her during this time.

I accepted his gratitude but told him that he had it wrong. All I did was drive her places. I should be thanking him for having such a wonderful daughter.

And I really meant that.

About a week later, I received a card in the mail from JoAnna. It said:

"Please don't say goodbye to me before I have the chance to say goodbye to you. You have been such a dear friend to me, whether or I have seemed to appreciate it not, and I need to thank you. You have given me so much and me so little. I wish some day to be half the person you are. Don't ever change from the humorously sweet and poetically round person you are now. You seem to take in all the little things in the world that need to be noticed. I admire that in you. The way in which you notice the little things and the little people (like me). That's the way things should be. Everyone should take to that note - especially me considering I don't do it much. (Our friendship, if you could even call it that). I'm sorry. I feel so bad that I know so much about you and you don't know anything about me. How can you write all those good things about me, saying I have so much to offer, when I have not so much as offered you two words? I owe you so much. I will always be here if you ever need anything. Keep writing, you have a knack for it. I know you love to write so even if something else come in the picture - you'll still write. As for me, I'll have to pick a card or roll the dice, or just wait until I find such an inspiring dream as you have. I will never forget you. You have been written into my life in such a way that cannot be erased. Make that impact on all you meet."

Wow.

I found this card today while I was upstairs organizing my papers. I called my old high school to see if they had any information on where I could find JoAnna now. Unfortunately, they didn't. I wanted to let her know that I never forgot her either. All these years, and her card is one of my most treasured possessions.

That and a little stuffed crocodile named "Jake Jr."

He takes after his father.

Sometimes, words aren't needed. JoAnna showed me that. If you're a good person, it'll come through. Some people just sparkle, ya know. Words are only as powerful as the person behind them.

Her card so deeply touched me that I took her words to heart. So much so, that I have spent my life trying to make a difference. Making an impact one person at a time. No matter how little it may be. Often I don't succeed - but I have good intentions. Usually :)

So, wherever you may be ... Thank you, JoAnna. I wish one day to be half the person that you are.

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