...other things weighed heavily upon my mind.
When I first met Rachel, I
was about ten years younger than I am today. I hadn't been out of
high school very long and was moving into the last vacant apartment
in her building. By the looks of things, everyone else that lived in the complex
were already friends...or worse in
my narrow young mind: fraternity brothers and their
sweethearts. When I looked at my roommates: a gothed-out
metal-loving boyfriend and our chain-smoking tattoo-artist friend, I
had visions of being chased out with pitchforks.
I had bright pink hair;
Rachel was a blonde.
Unbeknownst to me at the
time, that pretty little blonde and all of her
friends would not only accept me into their apartment building, but
their lives entirely. We fed each other and borrowed items from each
other's apartments without question. We took vacations together as
families would. When one of us went to war overseas, we were all huddled together on that tiny front stoop in the snow, waiting for him
when he finally pulled into the parking lot a year later.
Rachel lived directly across the hall from me. Our boyfriends both
worked a job that kept them away from home Monday-Friday, so she and
I spent many a day and night keeping each other company. We took
turns driving to class every morning and enjoyed more than a few margaritas at
the local mexican restaurant after our night classes let out. We
formed a bond that I never could have expected.
And then a few years down
the road, we had a falling out. The origins were ridiculous, but we
were both incredibly stubborn so the grudge hung around much longer
than it should have.
In
2009, one of our group lost his fight against brain cancer. His death
unraveled me completely but managed to bring Rachel and I back to
each other. I remember seeing her from across the funeral home, silk
scarf covering where that blond hair should have been, looking thin
from the treatments she had endured. Then our eyes met and we walked across
the room, held each other and said nothing.
Rachel
was one of the most driven people I've ever known. After completing
her undergraduate studies, she went on to law school, just like she
said she would (man, could that girl argue). She married a man she had loved for so long, and even
after countless tragedies: discovering the breast cancer, her
husband's health problems and subsequent surgeries, losing everything
in a house fire...she continued on, stubbornly and gracefully.
On the morning of February 4th, Rachel left this world. My
heart aches at the loss of my friend and sister. I am fortunate to
have known her and am thankful that she twice passed an olive branch
to me: once when I was no more than an immature and insecure young girl, and again as a grief-stricken woman. I can only hope to one day have a fraction of the strength that she possessed.
I miss you already...I (will) miss you always.
Rachel Almond-Kirkham
December 10th, 1981 ~ February 4th, 2012
