And I Owe It All To You — Remembering my childhood friend, John Ruffing

Dear John,

It will be 12 years Saturday since you died. I’m frightened by how quickly the memorials to you are overwhelming the memories with you.

I guess that makes sense — we met when I was 15 years old and struggling to figure out all of the things. I was 37 when you died. That’s 22 years of friendship and then 12 years of mourning. One day, I’ll turn around and realize its been 22 years of mourning and my heart will break again.

I didn’t make it to Dairy Queen this fall to have our traditional Pumpkin Spice Blizzard. I’m going to try to see if the local store is still open tomorrow. You would probably roll your eyes when I say that I’m trying to give up dairy and go with coconut milk options. As I typed that sentence, I imagined your response and now I’m crying/smiling.

I haven’t forgotten you, John. You come to mind all of the time, not just remembrances but in moments when I think “What would John say?” about things you’ve never experienced — Instagram, Burmese food, and most of my blog. Did you ever read my blog — it was just 2 years old and you definitely hated politics. But you would have loved my getting a GLAAD award. I think. I hope?