First Friend

There are old friends, and then there is a first friend.

I've known Julie since before I can remember. I knew her before I could see her - before I got my first glasses. I guess we were two when I moved into the house catty-cornered from her house. 

She was the middle of five and I was the youngest of four. We vowed at a very young age that anything that was hers was half mine and anything that was mine was half hers. We didn't realize then how strongly that would apply to our mothers. 

Mom and the Bug (Julie's mom's name is June) became besties and remained so even after Mom moved from our central Illinois hometown to North Carolina. The Bug took a plane and a car and a bus to get to Mom's surprise 85th birthday party! I can still see Mom's face when the Bug walked in. Pure joy!

Big Jim, Julie's dad, hugged me after Papa's funeral and told me he was now my Carthage father. In truth, he and the Bug had been my "half" parents all my life. If growing up with one set of parents is good, growing up with Big and the Bug across the street as a second set of parents was great.

I could tell you what they both have meant to me - what the whole fam damily has meant to me - but it would be a very long (though interesting) book. I was only grounded twice in my life. Both times it was the Bug who grounded me. Don't think just because we weren't really related and for the most part lived in separate houses, the grounding didn't stick!

Julie and I spend endless hours - days - in my treehouse or play house, walking on stilts Papa made for us, playing kick the can with the neighborhood and generally tormenting her (our) little brothers. (In case you've wondered, a small boy can fit down a laundry shoot and survive if there are enough dirty clothes on the floor at the bottom.) We used to walk to the Square at the end of every summer and buy our school supplies together. We even bought some supplies together before we went off to separate colleges. 

And then, as often happens, we sort of went our separate ways. There was never a great falling out, we were always glad to see each other. I wouldn't even think of going back to the hometown without seeing Big and the Bug, even though Jul lived elsewhere. Julie and I just had different lives. 

Then, you know how things happen. Big Jim died when I lived in Virginia. It was hard for people to understand the depth of my grief. Mom lived in North Carolina and the Bug back in Illinois. Mom and the Bug both got old, and confused. Then Mom died.

And today Julie and the Bug face-timed me from the Bug's memory care facility. Nothing has meant more to me than them reaching out to me like that. In recent days Julie and I have emailed each other. She has provided me with the support that I have been missing. A sister, yet not a sister. Someone who has always shared the biggest things with me - family. 

The floodgates that I've been so successful at keeping at least mostly closed, opened up while I've been writing this. That's good. I need to get this crying stuff under control so I have at least a chance of giving a eulogy day after tomorrow. 

I'll see the Bug and Julia Marie Christina Burling Kirk in April when I go back to Illinois for Mom's graveside service there. 

Can you know how grateful I am?