Monday, March 8, 2010


Today I found out my childhood best friend's dad died.

Hilary and I were the best of friends from 2nd grade until high school. We met as 8 year olds, when she moved from California to Missouri. The teacher, our favorite, sat us next to each other. I didn't know how to say her name, after I asked her, she asked if I wanted to play at recess. We started and just never stopped. We had a unique friendship, built on our specific strengths. School came easier to me, art and style came natural to her. We spent years planning the rest of our lives as friends, bothering our younger siblings, hating boys, and complaining about school.  As friends often do, our lives took separate paths.  There's not a year of elementary school or Jr. High that Hilary doesn't stick out in my mind. She was a great great friend.  We spent summers swimming, playing sports, and having adventures. Her dad was a big part of that, coaching our teams, helping us build things. He was always up for a good time. 

Today when I read on Facebook that he had passed away, it hit me really hard. How could such a joy-filled, energetic man be gone. He wasn't old, he's MY dad's age. I called my dad. I told him I loved him. 

Hil, know you're dad's legacy lives on by all of us, who took the extra time to tell our fathers what they mean to us today. You're in my prayers friend.

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