In honor of a friendship of time, for my first friend. And now my first to die of a drug overdose. Today I will go for a walk in the woods. I will remember that you and I use to sweep the dirt under the bushes with ferns and make beds to play in. I will remember that you and I played in the woods all the way through high school. I will remember forever the challenges that you overcame to turn into the women that you are. When no one was there for you, you grew into a more beautiful flower than the seeds that you enjoyed planting. If you were something that grew from the ground, you would be the seed that no one planned on planting. You would be a defect-perhaps not the color or height that the planter wanted. But every spring, you would bloom again. Every winter, you would fight to make it through. Every summer, someone else was blessed with the site of your flower. And eventually, the gardener that planted you as a seed would be the one to weed you out. Gardeners choose the seeds they plant. But the earth nourishes you and keeps you.

From Kindergarten through puberty, From outside to play to grown up jobs, I will remember you. Bridget Lucille Eaton

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