R. I. P. Jorge Maldonado

Yesterday, I got some terrible news. A dear childhood friend of mine was brutally murdered and I’m so sad. At first, all I could do was cry. I hurt for his hopes and dreams. I hurt for his family, especially his children. I hurt for the things I never got to say before his time ran out. I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake for hours thinking and shedding tears. Life is such a gift and his death was such a tragedy. So I will remember his life here. I will commemorate what he meant to me.

He was my childhood sweetheart. We met in grade school. I was on the safety patrol and his class exited the building on my side. I was 10 years old I think. I remember his smile, so wide, so genuine. We would meet in secret in the hallways. The vice principal caught us once and threatened to tell, but she never did. Once, we were a couple in a friend’s Sweet Sixteen. And my mom never knew. Secret Lovers. That was the song back then. We use to laugh about that. He was a graffiti artist and I remember we were issued these really old books and expected to use book wrappers to prolong their life. He used to make my book covers for me. He would decorate them and I felt so happy to carry my books around with his artwork. We were both short and when we graduated, it just so happened that we walked right next to one another in the procession. It was awesome!

We went to different high schools, but he always cut his final class so he could come to my school to see me home. Sometimes, we would secretly meet at the movie theatre or at friend’s house. Once, my dad caught us together and I was forbidden to see him. So, we started to write love letters back and forth. My friend Jessie would be the delivery person. At the same time, there was a song out called Love Letters, by Giggles. Jessie would bring me his notes and sing, Love, Love Letters, just like the song. At night, he would call my friend Judy and she would call me on the three-way so that he and I could talk without my parents suspecting.

He was so generous and had a kind heart. Once, he brought me a sheepskin coat with matching mittens. It was blue and I adored it, but I could never keep it because I didn’t know how I could possibly keep that from my parents so I gave him back the jacket and kept the gloves. He would always bring me gifts. Teddy bears and jewelry. Once when I was sick, he snuck into the hospital after my parents left, which was usually just before visiting hours were over, just to spend time with me. He had to hide from the nurses too, since he wasn’t supposed to be there after visiting hours. He brought me a silk rose then. I still remember. It was pink with a little light in the bulb. Something else I always remember is that he always looked good. He always matched and was clean and always smelled good. And he was a man of his word. He did what he said he was going to do and he kept his promises. And he was confident, in all he did. He always kept me going.

My parents were very strict with me. I was never allowed to do anything and he was strict with me too. If it wasn't my parents weren't watching, he was always watching, looking out. He wanted me to keep my nose clean and he was very jelous. It didn't matter what I did or who I spoke with, he always found out about it. Even when I went out with my parents, he was always watching. I remember he followed me around at a carnival once, keeping just a few feet away from my dad. I was so nervous. When I was old enough to work, he would come to visit me. And one night, he threw a pebble at my window and I didn’t know it was him. I got scared so I went and got my dad. He was furious.

Over time, we outgrew our puppy love, but we always remained friends. When I graduated, I think he had already dropped out of high school. I went to prom with a friend and to surprise me he had someone bring him in as a date. We danced all night. I still have the gloves I wore that night. He was such a great dancer. I used to love to watch him. And once before I moved to Florida, we went on a date. Well, it was the two of us and all his boys. I remember we went to Secaucus, which was further away from where we lived and when the movie let out, we went outside and discovered the car was stolen. I remember being scared, but I looked to him and he was so calm. I couldn't help but feel comforted. He reacted so well under the circumstances. Eventually, his brother came to pick us up. It was awful and I got home really late. Mom was so mad.

By now, I was in college, but he living a hard life for someone his age. I always felt that his life could have been different if he had a male role model in his life because he had such a good heart. He told me once he wanted to be a doctor. But instead he found himself in bad circles and soon after got locked up. I always wrote to him at the jail and visited him too. He always said he knew who his friends were. Lots of ‘em forgot all about him in there. And he found Christ in jail too, as many do. He had a strong faith and was always very encouraging. He worked out and believed in physical fitness. He always said we would work out together when he got out. But unfortunately, he was in jail so many times that he was eventually deported. And I kept in touch with him the whole time.

He was living in Peru and we were writing to each other. I encouraged him to find a nice girl and settle down, but he had his heart set on coming back. By this time, he had kids here, some of which he was raising even though he knew they were not technically his. I still have the necklaces that he beaded himself and sent to me while he was away. While in Peru, he did his time with the military and I remember how he much he loved his experience with parachuting. I was shocked, but he said he felt he could do it again and again. He did come back eventually, but by then I was living in Florida and his life was in NJ so we continued to stay in touch by phone. Then I met Esteban and once I started to make wedding arrangements, I told him all about Esteban and how I wanted them to meet. But he didn’t feel the same as I did. He said I was moving too fast and that he didn’t want me to come crying back to him later on, that my heart had been broken. And that was our last conversation. He never called again. It was the Summer of 2001.

The past couple of years, I had been thinking of him, and dreaming terrible dreams and I wanted to re-connect with him. I wanted him to know that I was ok. And I wanted to make sure he was ok too. I had a good man and I hoped that he had settled down as well. But it never happened. I never worked up the nerve to get my message out to him and now he’s gone. He was a good man with a solid heart and he devoted his life to raising his kids. He’ll miss his son’s graduation this year and countless other things. I came home and looked at Esteban and the kids and thanked God for them. Esteban was the right one for me and I thank God for what he and I have together. I’m thankful that its’ not me mourning my husband’s death. I always hoped that Jorge would have what I have with Esteban because he deserved it. He didn’t deserve to go the way he did. He didn’t deserve it. And so dear friend, please know that you were loved, you made a difference in many lives and you will be missed.

R. I. P.

Jorge Maldonado a.k.a. Hedrock

1972 – 2008