Today is the celebration of life for my friend Kim. It will be held in her home in Albuquerque and while she has a big house, I doubt it will be large enough to hold the love that will be squeezed in there today.

While I can not be there, our friend  Margaret offered to patch me in. She is going to put me on speaker phone so I can share some of the love. Margaret also agreed to read something from me. I’m grateful.

It took me forever to write these few paragraphs and I also needed help with them. I want it to be good — to count. I want to salute my friend well. I know a few words won’t really cover my feelings, but for now words are what we use.

For Kim,
Friends don’t come with “fragile” stickers. Kim and I were never fragile with each other, we were not easily scared off, or ticked off.

But, I will say, now that Kim is gone, I feel quite fragile, scared and really ticked off. I loved my friend and I miss her.

I had the great gift of Kim’s friendship, of her warm heart, her generous nature, and her great humour.

Telling stories is how we remember, and having met Kim in junior high school, I have a lot of stories that I could share about my friend.

Like the time we drove down from the Jemez with 2 flat tires, or when we drove across the country together after graduation. There was the Lake Powell trip, the many camping trips, the singing, and just sitting poolside together and laughing.

Always laughing. No matter what we did together — laughter was involved. When I was with Kim – we laughed.

Kim was my maid of honour when I married. Now, while she had the title — I had the honour. One of my favourite stories came from that July day in 1983.

After the ceremony, Kim was talking to my husband — he was smoking a joint, when my mother  started walking towards them. Ken discreetly tried to pass the joint to Kim -  without missing a beat – Kim just shook her head, and said, “No thank you.”

At a loss, Ken realized he was on his own with the goods. It was a little later when Kim said, “I’ve known Jan’s mother a lot longer than you have, I wasn’t about to get caught with that thing!”

I wish I was with you all today for the hugs and the tears and to hear more stories.

May I also say, Lorin – thank you for taking such good care of my friend. And, Austin, your Grandma loved you.

I feel we will  honour her life by sharing, so please do ask anyone who ever knew Kim for a story. And share yours. It is how we remember.

I know I’ll be asking for a story every now and then as well.

Good night Kimmie. I love you.