Childhood Friends

Did you have a childhood friend that you spent all of your time with? A friend you walked to school with every day? A friend you played on the playground with at every recess? A friend that lived just a hop, ski, and a jump away from you? A friend that you quit hanging out with for some reason, and haven’t really thought about for years?

Kelly was that childhood friend for me. She was 2 years younger than I was, but we still played every day and every weekend. At some point, we quit hanging out. I don’t really remember why or exactly when it happened. I can only guess that it was because we were 2 years apart in school and it just happened as we grew older.

I hadn’t thought about Kelly in years - like 20 years. My Dad called me Sunday and talked about Kelly. It’s amazing how the mention of a name can bring back vivid memories.

Like all the times I ran across my backyard to her house to play.

I remember playing in the giant tractor tire that was painted red and filled with sand.

I remember playing in the awesome playroom she had in her basement.

I remember throwing a Barbie Doll at her because I was mad that she had the Barbie Doll that I wanted.

I remember the instant remorse I felt when it hit her in the eye and she cried.

I remember sitting in her basement eating fondu.

I remember rolling around her basement on the goofy brown shag chair shaped like a giant mushroom.

I remember hearing how Kelly weighed less than 2 pounds when she was born.

I remember sitting on her front porch teaching her how to tie her shoes.

I remember sitting in her bedroom, taking the braids out of all of her dolls’ hair.

I remember her crying when I didn’t know how to put the braids back in.

I remember when we wanted to look like twins, so I begged and begged my mom to let me give Kelly my red shorts jumper so I could wear the blue one and we’d match.

I remember the day Kelly’s brother, Scott, came home from the hospital.

I remember how Kelly’s mom cried and cried when Scott died of SIDS.

I remember sitting at her kitchen table, doing watercolors in those books where you get the paint brush wet and rub it on the tiny colored dots on the paper to make color.

I remember hunting for mushrooms in the woods with their family.

I remember frying the mushrooms and eating them and thinking they were the most wonderful thing ever.

I remember eating my first beet at her house, and swearing I’d never ever eat another one in my entire life.

I remember the day she promised to play with me on the playground at recess, then said she didn’t want to.

I remember crying and crying all day about it.

I remember playing with her after school that day.

It’s amazing how you don’t think about somebody for so long, then a mention of their name brings back lots of memories. A week ago, if you’d asked me about my summers camping, I would have told you all about the campground and walking beans with my cousins and friends and waterskiing and volleyball and playing softball and sitting by campfires every night and growing up with these people and feeling like I had 15 brothers and sisters instead of just one brother.

Sunday, I remembered the little yellow cabin that Kelly’s family rented on the same lake.

I remembered all the boat trips we took to their cabin to grill out and hang out.

I remembered Kelly and I jumping off the end of the dock into the weedy water.

I remembered when I cut my toe on her dock and she put an entire box of Band-Aids on it.

I remembered wishing I had all the blow up floaty toys that she had.

I remembered how she always let me play with all of her toys, even if they were her favorite.

I remembered thinking the houseboat they borrowed for a couple days was the coolest thing ever.

I remembered the day our boat floated away off their dock and I got to stay overnight because it was late by the time her Dad and my Dad found it floating around the lake.

I remembered thinking it was WAY cool to sleep in the cabin with her and eat a bowl of ice cream sitting on her bed.

I remembered how cool it was to have such an awesome childhood friend.

Kelly passed away Sunday, at the age of 35, leaving behind her parents, a sister, a husband, and young son. No young boy should have to grow up without his mom. No parent should have to bury a child . . . let alone 2.

Please keep this family in your thoughts and prayers.