Author: denissecruz

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To Whom It May Concern:

Three years ago today, we lost our beloved Zalman Katz. He was only sixteen years old. Zalman’s death affected all of us in many ways. We were sad, some were mad, and others had no idea what to feel. I can attest to being one of those who didn’t know what to feel. It’s hard– it’s beyond hard, it’s a concept so difficult to grasp that many of us still struggle with it, every day and every time that we’re reminded that he’s gone. Zalman wasn’t someone that you could just erase from your life, he was someone that lit up your life. He always asked how you were, not merely as a routine but because he genuinely wanted to know. He gave the best advice because he listened. And he knew people, he really knew them. And in my case, more than I knew myself. I think that’s why he always knew what to say, always. Didn’t it seem that way?

When I met Zalman we were young. I was twelve I think, so he must have been eleven. And ever since then we’ve always been in each other’s lives. No matter what happened, if we were dating, if we were broken up, if we were dating again, or we had broken up again– no matter what, we always talked to each other about what was going on in our lives. He’d tell me about the girls that were driving him nuts, I told him about the guys that were driving me nuts, and it was all okay. He made things okay. Because at the end of it, I knew he was going to make some lame joke that we’d both eventually laugh at anyway. He was a clown, he really was. He was something else. And everyone knew it. Everyone that knew Zalman knew that there was something special about this boy.

I think that Zalman’s death affected a lot of us really hard because we didn’t really think that there was a chance of losing him. At least that’s what I thought. It was Zalman. He was my Superman(Spiderman?). He was always there. Always. Without fault. Whenever I needed him. He’d be there. I don’t know what I thought would happen. I mean I did assume there’d be some damage, but I figured I’d just write him a book about all of our time together, like the Notebook or something ( I still can’t watch that movie without bawling). But anyway, whenever I imagined the end of his coma, it always involved him waking up. I remember that some of us went to go visit him at his house one day. Seeing him in his home, in his element, made me think that I was right, that he was so close to coming back– it’d be any day now. But I was wrong.

I got the phone call, as we all did. And I remember what happened when it did, as I’m sure all of you do. I was at Glendale Dance Day. We had just gotten out for lunch so Danielle, Angela, and I were sitting outside. I looked at my phone and saw the missed calls. Immediately for some reason I figured it’d be good news, that he woke up or something. But Allison told me otherwise. The only reason I called Amanda was so she could tell me that everyone was wrong and it was a misunderstanding. But it wasn’t. So I ran; probably in circles, I have no idea, that part’s all blurry really. But I remember screaming. I remember feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Eventually I sat down, put on my music and cried. But, then I stopped. And I refused to accept it. I went straight back into my dance class and learned some routine instead. We performed a dance piece that night called “Hallelujah” and holy hell did that make it worse. But after the dance was done I was back into denial.

School was when it hit me, I didn’t want to be there. We were all in this lost state between sad and just..empty. With every single hug, and every single “I’m sorry”, it hurt more and more. I remember someone coming up to me and asking “What’s wrong?” and I couldn’t put into words that my best friend, my love, my backbone, my everything, was gone. So I said nothing. And I went to cry in the bathroom instead. The reception that day was when I finally allowed myself to be vulnerable ( at least a little). We laughed at the good memories. And we cried throughout probably the entire thing. The place was packed with just tons of people that this boy affected in some way. I remember going to see Zalman in the hospital for the first time. When I walked in I saw that the wall was entirely covered with cards  from his friends, family, and everyone else who loved him. And I knew. I knew in my heart, this boy changed so many lives. So many people loved him. I am so lucky to be one of those people.

Today, I tried not to be sad. I failed but I tried. It’s not easy. Time doesn’t make it easier. It still hurts just like it did then. But if I learned anything from Zalman, it was to love. So today I reminded myself of the love that Zalman and I shared. I thought about the love that I have for so many of you wonderful people. And I thought about the love for life itself.

Zalman’s life was cut so tragically short. If anyone enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest, I think it was him. We owe it to him, to love, everything and everyone, just as much as he did. I remember when we first started dating he was afraid to talk to me, afraid to hold my hand, afraid to tell me he liked me, let alone that he loved me. But when we were older he said fuck it, I don’t care anymore, I love you and I’ll tell the whole world if I have to. Don’t be afraid to express your love. If there’s anything I regret, it’s not saying it more. And not just romantic love. Express your love for life. Express your love for your friends. And enjoy it. Enjoy life. Enjoy the little things. Take it all in because it’s all going so quickly. I’m sorry that I’m sounding a bit cliche, but fuck it, do not take it for granted.

And another thing, Zalman worked wonders on a lot of our self-esteems. He told us not to doubt ourselves and just go for what we wanted. So hold your head high, feel beautiful, feel worth it, and do what your heart wants to do. Because he knew what we were capable of, even if we didn’t. So start believing it. If Zalman saw it, it’s there. It’s in you.

So remember. Remember Zalman, remember his help, remember his cooking, remember his jokes, remember him taking his pants off, remember him playing the drums, remember his laugh, remember his smile, anything, just remember. That way we can all keep him alive.

I hope you all stayed strong today (or tried like I did). I apologize for not really speaking on the subject, it’s still really hard for me to talk about it. There’s so many factors to what was happening at the time when he went into a coma and before and then there’s the “what ifs”. It’s all hard to deal with internally that verbalizing it just makes it that much worse. But I am working on it! As I should. I really am sorry that I haven’t been able to connect with some of you. It’s hard for me to remember that there’s so many of you out there that feel this same pain. So reach out to each other when you can & remember. It helps that we have each other. I’ll try and do that too, I promise.

 

To Zalman Katz & the beauty, joy, laughs, etc, that he brought into our lives.