I’m sitting here on my couch after a wonderful weekend with amazing friends and am in a bit of shock. For those of us on Facebook, we all get the reminders of memories from our past. It shows what we did, who we received messages from, and who we sent messages to in years past. Tonight, the memory of a sweet friend of mine came up, and since I hadn’t spoken with her in several years, I decided to look her up to see what she was doing and say hi. As I perused her wall to see if she had traveled anywhere interesting or had something funny to say, I found myself a bit confused by the scarcity of posts. None were from her but rather from friends of hers. I scanned through them and then quickly realized that she had passed away several years ago unexpectedly. I’m still trying to process it all and have sent private messages to several of her friends who have recently posted to her wall in hopes of finding out what happened. Now, through a flood of tears, I am remembering the fun we used to have together.
Growing up where I did, I was very blessed to have a normal childhood on a street where everyone knew everyone. I really thought that kind of neighborly connection was gone until I moved into my home in Round Rock in 2001. We were immediately welcomed by our new next door neighbor while removing a box from our Uhaul truck. From that point on we got to know everyone on our street and, to this day, I consider them family.
It wasn’t long until we got invited to a block party at a house “up around the bend” of our street. We decided to bring with us a game called “Goofy Golf,” as we knew it was a good outdoor activity that could be enjoyed by people of all ages. The game is played by throwing two golf balls connected together by rope running through each ball and knotted on the end onto a three-tiered pvc pipe rack. You got points depending on which tier the balls landed. Yes, the ball jokes were aplenty while playing which is what made it that much more fun. It wasn’t long until I got paired up with a newly introduced neighbor to see who could throw their balls better. I knew I’d like her when her first attempt ended up with the balls stuck up in the oak tree above our heads. We laughed ourselves silly!
From that point on, she and I would get together for visits at her house or mine. She was a voice of comfort many times for me. I remember when she painted her sitting room a deep red and then recovered a couch with gold fabric. When she told me about the colors I thought it would be a bit much, but I had to hand it to her…it was stunning!
We’d often play poker with the guys, usually being the only two women playing. We could both hold our own, so it was always a lot of fun. I remember one game in particular at her house. There were five of us playing and two of the guys decided to go out back for a smoke break. While they were out there, she and I decided to deal the cards and made sure the two of them had a pair of aces each. We then sat back, folded our hands due to their betting, and watched the shenanigans ensue. It was so worth it!
It wasn’t until she got divorced and moved to the Dallas area that we slowly grew apart. Of course, she was always the kind of friend who could just pick up right where we left off which was apparent during our phone calls or visits. Her smile was contagious as was her laugh. I’m feeling a bit angry at myself that I let the distance in location distance our relationship, but at least now I can talk with her anytime I want.
Thank you for your unconditional love and friendship, Tracy. You are so very missed!