Some letters to friends starting with Rachel

I have lived in 15 houses. I am pretty used to moving. Sometimes I like it and sometimes I don't. Always there is a little bit of anxiety about all the new things--new ward, neighborhood, friends. Everywhere I've moved I've met wonderful people that have enriched my life. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I want to write about some people that have touched my life. Partly, I want my children to read this in the future and know about some of the people that have influenced their mom's life. Partly, I want my Mom and Dad to know that we have been well taken care of in their absence. If you aren't mentioned, don't be offended. I could write about any one of you.

When we moved to Utah I made a friend named Rachel Clark. We were in Accapella together. We were roommates on tour. When I couldn't afford to buy the shoes for Accapella, Rachel bought them for me. I am pretty sure it was Rachel that got me interested in soccer. She was/is so good at soccer. Rachel asked me to be her roommate at college. I was so excited and flattered that Rachel wanted to live with me.

That first semester I was so depressed. It Rachel that saved me and got me out of my slump. We also roomed our Sophomore year. We laughed so much we would cry. I felt like no one "got" me as well as Rachel did. I could talk to Rachel about spiritual things, and we often did right before we went to sleep. She was such a good example to me, reading her scriptures every night, doing her visiting teacher, magnifying her calling.

When I dated Mike I wished we were still roommates because I wanted her to know him and be a part of that with me. When I got married, Rachel bought my temple clothing. Every time I put them on I think of her. She was also in the temple with me when I went through the temple and when I got sealed. When I had my first baby, she made a quilt for him.

When she got married and had her first baby, I wasn't around. I lived in Oklahoma. My gifts to her were NOT as meaningful. Rachel always remembered my birthdays and I more often than not, forgot. When we lived together, I was always so loud and the center of the attention. I don't know if I let her be the one in the spotlight. When we were in high school I had a crush on a boy and I used to talk for hours to her about how much I liked him and I'm not sure I gave her enough opportunities to talk to me about boys she liked.

We read each others blogs, we occasionally email and call each other. When I go to Utah, I always want to see her. My trip doesn't feel complete until I've seen her. It always feel like years could go by and things would just start where they left off. Sometimes I want to call her and talk to her but I don't. I think I am worried that my friendship doesn't mean the same to her as it means to me.

I have some other friends that I could write about and the ending would be the same. I talk to Mike about them and ask, "Why are they so nice to us? Why are they always serving us? How can they know just what we need?" I don't mean to be a bad friend. I don't mean to take more than I give. I don't mean to forget birthdays. I don't mean to give lame presents. I don't mean to get busy and forget about the prayers needed or the dinners to be cooked, or phone calls to be made.

In about two months we are moving and it will be time to make some new friends and I am sad, and feel some regrets. Was I a good enough friend? There are people I don't want to forget that I've met in Oklahoma but distance and time wear on friendships. Those people I don't want to forget are people that have served and loved our family. I don't know if I've returned that love and service the way I should. I wonder if it will take my whole life to learn how to be a better friend. I hope not. I hope that I am not forgotten.

And to my friends, in Utah, or Oklahoma, or anywhere else you might be, I want to say that I'm sorry and that I love you and that I have learned something from all of you.