Matt Shepard is a Friend of Mine

Matt Shepard is a Friend of Mine by Heidi Clemmer

Matt is a very dear friend of mine and I miss him more than words can say. Matt's mother and my mother are cousins and very good friends. They lived in Wyoming and we lived in California, so we didn't see each other very often. And even though there is photographic evidence that we had previously been mischievous together, I don't recall hanging out with him until I was 11... Matt was 13. The whole family gathered in Cody, WY to celebrate my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary.

When I first saw Matt on that trip (I can't believe I am admitting this), I was bummed that we were cousins. He was so sweet and CUTE... Gosh, was he cute. Call it a crush, whatever, he was fun to be around and I instantly loved him. We caught snakes and played imaginative games while the adults did the talky talky drinky drinky thing that grown-ups do. We had a blast together!

Before our journey home, we went to Thermopolis for a stinky swim. I understand now the uniqueness of the hot springs, but then I just remember the natural water smelling too disgusting to swim in. But after we got past the smells and the many jokes, we hit the slides. Matt, being a small guy, thought it would be funny to stop himself in the small blue tube and wait for me. He would always be in a different spot so I never knew where I would slam into him. We would laugh and laugh and shoot out into the pool together. We did this over and over all day long. The pure joy on his face waiting in that blue tube is the image of him that I will hold in my mind forever. I even have recurring dreams about falling down a tunnel or a mudslide and finding Matt waiting there. It's very reassuring.

After that trip, Matt and I became pen-pals. He would send me letters, pictures, and postcards and I would do the same. I remember him asking me to send more pictures of myself because his roommates really liked them. (I think I stopped sending pictures of myself after that.) He would tell me all about the amazing places he was going, and for about 5 years I got pictures from Spain, Switzerland, and Italy. I don't remember exactly what year the letters stopped, but I think it was after his trip to Morocco.

It makes me so sad that I was not there for him in those 4 years we lost touch... those 4 years he needed me most. I often thought of him and told myself I would go see him when I had time. But while attending college in Dallas, I turned on the news and saw that Matt had been killed. I was in shock! Why would anyone hurt Matt? The confusion set in.

This was the first time I had heard, out loud, that he was gay. Of course he's gay. Who cares? I didn't need him or anyone else to tell me. Just like I didn't need to tell him or anyone else that I was straight. It is what it is. You are who you are. Why should it matter? And no one deserves to be tortured because of that... NO ONE!

I clearly remember the moment I knew Matt liked boys. When we were at the hot spring, we walked right through a group of giggling 13 year old girls in bikinis and he didn't take a second glance. At first I thought it was odd, and then we went past some boys and I commented on how cute they were... he blushed and didn't disagree with me. It didn't even phase me. I knew then that he and I had the same type, and that only made us closer. It only got weird when society said it had to be.

I could go on and on about the healing process, the regret, the hurt, the forgiveness, etc. But all I want to do is to remember that smiling face waiting for me in the water slide.

-Heidi Clemmer

Posted: 14th Jan 2014

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