It passes so quickly sometimes. Yet, other times it seems to crawl.
We always think we have more of it…until we don’t.
I heard of a grade school friend’s passing yesterday. I haven’t seen her in well over a decade, but the news took my breath away. She’s 35. She has two young children.
It breaks my heart.
My brain was firing on all cylinders after I heard the news. Memories of our childhood flooded my mind. I could see her bedroom, every square inch covered with New Kids on the Block posters. I could see us, the weekend before we started middle school, awake in my bedroom at 4 in the morning, playing Barbies. We’d decided the middle school kids most certainly didn’t play with Barbies so we were going to have one final hurrah.
She was part of my childhood and now she is gone.
I don’t know anything about her now. I don’t know what her life was like. I don’t know her husband or her children. But my heart hurts for them, for her parents and sisters. Because it’s not the way it’s supposed to be. It’s just not.
And here I sit, reminiscing on all that has passed, mourning a young girl who was my friend.