My Friend...

I met Karen at the pool. It was the summer of 2003. I introduced myself to her because I wanted Nikela to get involved with Girl Scouts and someone told me she was the one to talk to. Of course, Mandi and Nikela already knew each other…and Kelli and Kiahra would start school that fall together.

It was the start of a rich friendship. Those warm brown eyes and smile that so gently welcomed me during our first conversation together would become very familiar to me. Karen guided me into the world of Brownie Scouts. Patiently she would encourage me and guide me. Those first few meetings with all those little girls were a bit overwhelming, but nothing excited Karen too much. With five children of her own, she knew how to navigate kids.

I remember unloading those first Girl Scout cookie boxes into the dugout. I was intimidated, but Karen just tackled the job quietly, and we were finished in record time. I am not sure when we first had lunch together, but I think it may have been on this day. New to the community, Karen’s warmth was so refreshing.

We could…and did...talk for hours. We worried about our kids together. We laughed about life together. We shared stories about our families. We cried together. We shared our dreams and fears. We grew together…notice I did not say older, Karen :)

I remember the day when we went to Billings together for Brownie Scout business. Little Kade was with us, as I think we sneaked away when the rest of the kids were in school. When we were headed home, we were just past Park City and we had forgotten something…I can’t even remember the details, but with a sly grin you told Kade to hang on…and you slowed down as you took the suburban off-road through the median, and in the blink of an eye, we were headed back to Billings on a mission. Kade thought that was so funny! He giggled so hard, and he still remembers that day! He loved you. He loved to flirt shyly with you. And you would tease him back.

Life is not for the faint of heart, and you embraced life with courage and love. In your quiet humility was hidden your powerful strength, which showed me how to live…

Through the years, we didn’t even need words. Just seeing you across the room, I could see in your eyes the understanding and unspoken greeting. And you never failed to smile. I loved that smile.

This summer, it is so suiting that we talked in the park together, where it all started. In that time, the kids have grown so much…Kiahra and Kelli are no longer little kindergarten bugs…Mandy and Nikela are in the eighth grade already…Melissa and Billy graduated…Charlie started his senior year… The kids endured my English classroom good-naturedly after I returned to teaching. The girls moved between our households with ease…growing up together. Riding bikes, playing dolls, swimming…enjoying childhood. Then I moved away 18 months ago. You were so supportive and kind.

That same kindness was apparent in your motherhood. Melissa has your gentleness and patience. Billy has your great smile and easy-going nature. Charlie’s tenacity also belongs to you, as does Mandi’s sweet spirit and Kelli’s wit. All of the things I love about you are in your children. Your spirit lives strongly in your family.

Karen, you promised me that the pitter-patter of feet would subside…and as the feet started to leave your house, new feet joined mine. I remember when you first met Chayse. Your heart for children shone through. She loved you, too, as you quietly, playfully interacted with her and made her giggle.

Sometimes, I can’t believe I too am the mother of five children…and those ten little feet…aren’t really so little anymore. Though I know my courage to embrace more children came from you. My children are richer for their time spent with you, too.

I thought, though, that we would grow old together, and that in a few years we would sit down for a quiet cup of coffee and talk…and I would hear that rich laugh that I love so much…

I am struggling selfishly tonight as the salty tears sting my now raw cheeks….because the tears just won’t stop. I know in my heart you are resting peacefully…I know you would have wanted it this way…but I just am not quite ready to let you go…

Oh, I know you will be in my heart forever…I know that who I am today is because I knew you…I know I carry that with me each day…and I know I won’t ever let go of that because it has become part of me…and I have so many warm memories that keep me laughing through my tears…

But tonight I cry…tonight my heart aches…it is so tight that sometimes I can’t breathe…ironic, isn’t it?

As I sit here, 2,000 miles away worrying about your family…wishing I could see them…to see you in them…to share their pain…to try and figure out how to say good-bye gracefully under those big Montana skies.