My friend Kimberlee
My first memory of my friend Kimberlee: watching her clomp cheerfully into the lab library wearing an up-to-there miniskirt, a pair of black leather boots, and an effervescent smile. My first thought was: "Ooh! I'm about to meet the Happiest Little Dominatrix!". I was giddy with anticipation. She did not disappoint.
There is a quote in the book Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg. I've dog-eared the page on which the quote appears, because I take it off the shelf from time to time and re-read the one quote. It's only a sentence long, but the reason this quote moves me is because it is an eloquently-worded description of the trait I love most in my friend Kimberlee. It goes: "She was capable of a scary kind of honesty I was ready for, although until that moment, I hadn't realized how much I'd been needing to meet someone I might be able to say everything to."
Happy birthday, my beautiful, generous, compassionate, brilliant, perfectly imperfect dear friend changnut. Not a day goes by that I do not stop what I am doing at some point to consider how lucky and blessed and grateful I am for your existence, let alone your friendship. I love you.
There is a quote in the book Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg. I've dog-eared the page on which the quote appears, because I take it off the shelf from time to time and re-read the one quote. It's only a sentence long, but the reason this quote moves me is because it is an eloquently-worded description of the trait I love most in my friend Kimberlee. It goes: "She was capable of a scary kind of honesty I was ready for, although until that moment, I hadn't realized how much I'd been needing to meet someone I might be able to say everything to."
Happy birthday, my beautiful, generous, compassionate, brilliant, perfectly imperfect dear friend changnut. Not a day goes by that I do not stop what I am doing at some point to consider how lucky and blessed and grateful I am for your existence, let alone your friendship. I love you.