Remembering

I met her while she was clutching her two year-old's hand at the nursery school meet and greet. She was 27 and had recently lost her equally young husband in one shocking instant on a stifling July day. She was inching her way forward. I admired her ability to even get out of bed each morning. "I have a toddler with lots of needs." She explained. My son became friends with hers as I shepherded these little boys to and from their activities, while she put on a suit and heels and went on job interviews. Knowing that her child needed extra hugs, I overlooked his runny nose and his damp. graying yellow blankie. Thirty one years later, she and I still connect. We can meet for dinner, decide that we're not thrilled with our outfits and like sixth grade girls, shop for new dresses and return giggling to the restaurant, attired identically. Last night she blamed herself for not being a good enough friend. "Ridiculous!" I insisted. Life sometimes gets in the way...family, work and the buzz of all the responsibility. But we always pick up where we left off, always care and definitely remember.