by Cris Italia
Growing up, I always thought there was something wrong with me. Although I had many good friends, I didn't have someone who stood out from the rest like my brother did. He told me to have patience and in time I would realize who my best friend was.
In my freshman year of high school, I met Dave D'Ambrosio in band class. We both played the trumpet, and although I wouldn't have admitted it then, he was better than I was. The competition killed any chance for a friendship in the beginning, but a year later we realized just how much we had in common. Between our ethnic Italian families, our love for the Yankees and his yearning to be cool, we became good friends fast.
Dave was one of those rare birds, unbelievably intelligent, but he never let you know just how smart he was. There was obvious potential here. That's when I went to work imparting my "cool" wisdom on him, which I had acquired from my older brother. By junior year, Dave had ditched the New York Giants sweatpants he wore to school every week for a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt.
Without my realizing it, Dave was becoming more than a good friend. The more he changed, the more I was changing as well. Teen years can decide the rest of your life. I know that before I met Dave, I was headed in a much different direction than the one I eventually found. Had I stayed on it, I might not have been under control today -- never mind ever having the opportunity to write this column.
Funny thing about best friends: You can go 10 years without ever saying to each other how much you mean to each other. You know deep down, but it never really needs to be said. Well, I just can't imagine where I'd be right now without him. He brought me into his world and has gone way beyond the call of a best friend, so much so that he has even given me more than friendship. He has been like a brother to me and has given me a family.
Senior year, graduation day, Dave took the podium as the valedictorian. He had a prepared speech for our principal about future and the importance of higher education. His first speech, on the subject of friends, had been rejected. As always, Dave was insistent on doing what he wanted. He trashed the phony speech and spoke from his heart.
He said that high school wasn't just about learning and expanding the mind, but perhaps the most important part of high school was the friendships you make that last a lifetime. He read off some names, pointed to each of us in the crowd, and made it known that without us he wouldn't be the person standing before his fellow graduates that day.
For the last seven years I've watched Dave do what I knew he could do. He made medical school seem so easy. Rarely did he complain of a class being too hard or a test that he thought he might have a problem with. Now, even before his 25th birthday, Dave will graduate this week and carry the title of doctor. I've seen him go through so many ups and downs, each time battling back and coming out on top. With every strike against him, Dave would hit a home run.
During the times when I've doubted myself, Dave made me believe again. He gave me hope, he felt my pain, and we got through whatever it was together. He was never too busy for me, even with the rigors of medical school.
My brother was right. In life you only have one best friend. At least I don't have any doubt about who it is.
