A very dear friend of mine from middle school's mom died this past Sunday. She'd been ill for over a year now - a long, slow, cruel decline that was particularly hard on the whole family. She was a genuinely wonderful person, a truly kind, encouraging and enthusiastic woman who will be missed by everyone who knew her.
Between the viewing last night and the funeral and the reception today, I've had quite the tour of my childhood. I saw people I've known since kindergarten and first grade, including the "other Hillary" who I had many of my birthday parties with and the first boy I ever kissed. Plus their parents. And friends from high school. It is weird to see them all grown up, with kids and careers.
Then today I went to the funeral in the church up near my middle school, to the cemetery right by the house where I grew up, drove past Kennedy High School where many of my friends went, past the turnoff to my friend Laurie's house (Laurie being most notable for having introduced me to the wonderful Mr. Penguin) and to Columbia, where so many of my elementary and middle school friends lived. The reception was in a historic house in Vantage Point, a neighborhood where friends of my parents lived. One year in that house the kids put on a Halloween show for the parents. I particularly remember turning Blondie's Call Me in to Kill Me, which we thought was very spooky. I drove past Running Brook, which has the distinction of being the neighborhood where I went trick-or-treating for the last time as a kid. At the reception I swapped stories with old friends and their families, remembering events I hadn't thought of in years.
I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it was nice to see everyone and be reminded of my past.
