Writ 101 Sec 61
30 August 12
Smile and Fight I first met Roger when we were in elementary school. We weren't absolute best friends, but of course who isn't friends when you're in the second grade. We went to the same school for the next eight years, so it was nearly impossible not to see him around. Over the years, as we got older we became closer. He seemed to always be around, and when he was he was always laughing. If he wasn't laughing, he was probably busting some kind of dance move. It was literally impossible to not smile when you were around him. In band, whenever we would go on trips, our whole little crew, which consisted of most the people in our grade, would sit in the back of the bus and just go crazy. All of us would be laughing, singing, dancing and just enjoying all being together and being a part of these perfect moments. Little did we know that this would all come to a screeching halt. It was at band camp freshman year when I found out. I remember it just like it was yesterday. Tiree came up to me and told me that Roger had cancer. At first I didn't believe it. It couldn't have been true. Then I saw him. He flashed that famous smile at me that everyone loved to see and I broke down into tears. He gave me a big hug and said that he would be fine. He told us that everything was going to be fine. He assured us that it was all going to be okay. For the next two years, Roger was in and out of school. He would be flying to Texas and back or driving up to Tennessee for his chemotherapy. Whenever he would come to class he was greeted with nothing but hugs and love. In return, we were greeted with his smile and wonderful dance moves. Of course we would ask how he was doing, and every time he would assure us that he was fine. He would always tell us he was fine, and we believed him. I like to think that I believed him because I actually thought it was true. On the other hand, I think it was because I didn't want to believe that it wasn't. By the end of sophomore year everyone could tell that things were progressively getting worse. He came to school less and less and when he did finally come he looked sicker and sicker. Whenever we would start to worry, he would just flash us that smile and tell us that he was fine. I distinctly remember the last conversation we had. It was at one of our high school baseball games. When it was over he walked over to our group and said with a smile, "What's up?"
"Nothing really. How are you doing?" I asked him with a smile in return. He then reassured me that he was fine and that everything was okay. When it was time for me to go I walked over and gave him a hug. "I'll see you later!" He said with a smile as I walked away. Smiling back at him I yelled: “Love you!” "Love you too!" We were both smiling from ear to ear. All I could think about was how excited I was for the next time I got to see him. Little did I know that that was the last conversation we would ever have. July 27, 2010. Two years after his diagnosis and just one week before we were supposed to start our junior year together, Roger lost his battle with cancer. "Smile and Fight" was his motto through the whole thing and smile and fight he did. I can remember everything about that night. I was at Cody Moss’s house, and we were watching High School Musical 3: Senior Year. I was bored, and I had seen the movie a thousand times, so I was just checking out Facebook. I saw a status that one of my friends posted: “God bless the Bishop family as they sent one of their angels back to heaven tonight.” My stomach dropped. My heart stopped. All I could think was that it couldn’t be true, so I texted Tiree. “Please tell me what I just read isn’t true.” She told me that it was, and the anger hit me instantly. How could this happen? He told me that he was fine. The doctors had said that it wasn’t fatal. He promised me that everything was going to be okay, and this was not okay. I ran