The Big Green-Eyed Dragonfly

A young boy with brown hair and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen came zooming into the camp gym. He was popping wheelies in his wheelchair and had a Harley Davidson temporary tattoo on his forehead. His dad was running trying to keep up behind him.

“Hi Peter!” I said and went up to him.

Everyone knew who Peter was because he was always volunteering to be in everything at camp. He told the funniest jokes and was the loudest in the room.

I was nine years old at Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA) summer camp. It was my favorite week of the year. The week where I reconnected with friends that I only saw at camp. Where we didn’t get stared at. Where limits didn’t define us. We all rolled and had races with each other. Where we played power soccer and joked about how we were late to every activity.

Peter had been coming to camp for a few years and was around my age. He was a force to be reckoned with and could be seen speeding around on the dance floor when it was the camp dance.

Left to right: Chessa, Eryn, Peter, Hailey, and Marcella

A few years went by, and I came into the camp gym once again for check-in. All the same aged campers had the same check-in time so I would see all my friends and their families in the gym. My camp counselor came running up to me with a huge smile on her face. I looked around the gym and didn’t see Peter.

“Hailey, where’s Peter?” I asked her. Her face instantly turned somber and her once glowing smile became saddened.

“He passed away,” she quietly said.

Shock overtook me. I was only eleven years old. How could one of my friends be gone just like that? At such a young age. I was in disbelief. Peter’s missing presence was felt amongst the entire camp that year. There seemed to be a missing laughter in the air. While it was fun to be at camp, I mourned the loss of one of my friends at the same time. Someone who would never experience another amazing week at summer camp like any kid would want to.

Peter was my first friend with Muscular Dystrophy to pass away. The same rare genetic disease I had. Not exactly the same kind, but under the umbrella of muscle-wasting diseases out there. It was a hard realization as a kid to realize my friends could pass away at any moment. Myself included.

Each year at camp, more friends were lost year by year. My camp counselor, Hailey, took photos of every year at camp. She made massive albums and took pictures of everyone and everything. This was also back when digital cameras weren’t a thing, so she would have to buy at least five disposable cameras. Even waterproof ones!

Sometimes we reminisce and look back on the albums. We notice those who are no longer with us and remember them fondly. I’m so grateful Hailey captured these beautiful memories.

Hailey and Peter in the camp gym

Fast forward to present time, I received an email at my job. A college student had asked me if I’d be willing to be interviewed for the school newspaper. She had heard of me through one of my caregivers who was her sorority sister. She wrote that she admired my story and it was especially touching to her because she had a brother with Muscular Dystrophy.

I replied back that I’d be happy to chat, as I always like spreading awareness any chance I get. The next week, the student stopped by my office to interview me. She was a sophomore and a public relations major, same as me when I went to the same college. She was also in the department where I advise students for. She introduced herself as Price and that she was honored to meet me.

Price was beaming and said my caregiver described how amazing my life is. She said she never even knew people with Muscular Dystrophy could have a full-time job. That it was even a possibility.

I laughed and said, “Yeah, I’m pretty rare in that case. A lot of people with disabilities don’t have a full-time job.” I asked her if her brother had ever been to MDA summer camp. She nodded and exclaimed, “He did!” I asked her what her brother’s name was and she said Peter.

I’m terrible with names. Plus, there were hundreds of people I knew at camp and they all blur together over the years. I asked Price to see a photo of him because I was better with faces.

And there was my friend Peter’s face on her phone. Tears rolled down my eyes and I looked up at Price.

My mouth was dropped open and I exclaimed, “Your brother was Peter?!”

She nodded and said with tears in her eyes now, “You knew him?”

“Yes, he was my friend,” I answered. After that, we burst into tears.

We had the loveliest conversation about Peter’s beautiful life, Muscular Dystrophy, and exchanged fond memories of Peter. Price was four years old when Peter passed, and he was the best big brother she could’ve asked for. I showed her photos of Peter at camp that she had never seen before.

I had stories to share about him that she’d never heard. Nearly 20 years later, I still remember Peter. He made a huge impact on my life and is the reason I live life to the fullest every second I have. Like Peter did.

Price shared with me that she was four years-old when her big brother passed away. When she was at his memorial service, a big, blue dragonfly with these big green eyes landed on her hand. She told her mom it was Peter visiting her. Peter had the biggest green eyes.

You never know who you are impacting. Thousands of people you will never meet, or maybe you will. Life has a funny way of coming back around. Reminding you of the beauty that surrounds you. Peter brought his sister to me. And for that, I am so grateful to continue to share his story.

Price shared my story in an article in the Red & Black HERE. It is written beautifully.