A Good Man

I learned recently that an old childhood friend's father has just passed away. This girl had been my best friend from fourth grade until the end of high school, where we eventually drifted apart during the growing pains of trying to come into our own as young adults.  After many years of separation we are now on good terms again. She has a beautiful family of her own now (we even ended up with the same last name, coincidentally). I was really happy to see she was happy and thriving. Now, my heart hurts for her. I hadn't seen her father in well over a decade, but I knew him pretty well back then.

I went on many a family vacation with them back then and after one of the many times my family uprooted and ended up in Denver, they actually looked me up and came to visit me. We went to Rocky Mountain National Park together and to Never Summer Ranch (which was one of my favorite places when I was a kid). Not many people gave me much thought unless it was to give me their daughter's hand-me-downs, but they made the effort to come see me from out of state. I didn't have any friends at that time, so to have my best friend remember me and come see me when I was twelve was so special to me. Her parents did such a kind thing those couple of days they were in Colorado.

Every year, the family would go to spend a week in Sedona and most years, I came along. I spent lots of time with my friend and her father. I got to learn terrible jokes, eat chili baked potatoes (a vacation favorite) and play pool. There were awesome nature hikes and Northern Arizona became my special place too. We dove off of rock cliffs and into Oak Creek at Grasshopper Point, floated down Oak Creek in a tiny rubber raft, swam in a "secret" swimming hole with a rope swing and walked barefoot on the red clay dirt. At night, I slept so soundly. I got to get away from my terrible home life for a while and just be a kid with my very best friend. I have her parents to thank for that. He was a good man, her father. I am sorry he is gone.