I haven't posted in awhile, and when I do, I don't share on social media like I used to.
Yesterday, I talked to a Fairmont teacher and somehow the conversation turned to AI. I told him Nick was using Chat GPT to write the intro for the Scholarship Awards next week.
This morning, when I was scrolling through social media, I came across a post from a teacher who said "Unfortunately, I think I may have to move to having my students do everything on paper."
Lots of interesting comments, so I sent it to my friend. He said "I could make an essay for you in 3 minutes. Hold up, let me show you how easy it is. Give me a tough topic to write about and I'll send you a 500 word essay in 30 seconds."
I replied - "I wonder if we put some of Melissa's info from the blog in, how different if would sound? I can literally hear her voice in her writing."
"Just had it analyze the website and make a new 500 word blog post. I gave it instructions to use the blog writing style and create a new post as if it were you."
*Just a note before I share what Chat GPT wrote. He chose the last blog www.fortscancersux.blogspot.com - which had a lot of my writing. This was obviously based on MY writing, not hers. But WOW. It could have been me.... (it even wrote the Title!)
****
It's May again. The flowers are blooming, the grass is too long, and prom dresses are showing up on my newsfeed. It's the season of endings and beginnings. And just like every year, it knocks the wind out of me.
Fairmont High School is buzzing like it always does this time of year. And I find myself thinking-she should be here. She should be looking back on her high school memories with a knowing smile, helping some kid pick a tie for prom, telling someone their bangs are too much (with love, of course). Instead, I'm sitting here trying to make sense of another year without her.
Grief is strange. Some days I can laugh remembering her sass and quick wit. Other days, ever her name feels too heavy to say out loud. But then I get an email, or a card, or see a post from someone applying for her scholarship, and I remember: she is still here. Not in the way I want her to be. God, not even close. But in a hundred tiny ways-notes scribbled in notebooks, memories shared in passing, lives touched because she was here, even if it wasn't for long enough.
This scholarship-her scholarship-is more than money. It's a bridge. A way to connect the past with a future she didn't get to have. Every time a student applies, every time they write about how they want to carry her legacy forward, it stitches something back together in my heart. These kids-some of them weren't even born when she walked Fairmont's halls-but they write about her like they know her. And I swear, some of them do. Somehow.
I don't need perfection. I don't need straight-A students with 17 extracurriculars and a Nobel Peace Prize in progress. I want heart. I want passion. I want someone who knows life can be hard and unfair, but gets up anyway. Someone who will love fiercely, show up for others, and maybe throw a little side-eye at injustice-just like she did.
I'll keep writing here, as long as I can. As long as someone's reading. Because this pain doesn't go away, but telling her story helps. And if someone else can live a little louder, love a little deeper, and face life with a little more fire because of Melissa, then that means something. It means everything.
So here's to another spring. To the bright-eyed seniors about to take on the world. to the ones who carry her name in their hearts and on their application. And to my girl-always my girl-who left too soon but left so much behind,
Keep shining, sweet pea. I see you in every sunset, every laugh, every act of kindness. And I'm still so proud.
*****
The only thing I wouldn't have written was "sweet pea". I never called her that. Pretty girl, YES.
But the rest is pretty accurate.
And so appropriate since the Scholarship Awards are next week.
I'll post again with the recipients!
Love you and miss you EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Melissa.
%5B1%5D.jpg)
