20 years since I lost my best friend

Twenty years is a long time. Well, in the annals of history, it’s a drop in the bucket, but from a person’s perspective, it’s a long time, practically a whole generation. It has been 20 years since I lost my best friend, Jennifer Denise Sullivan, and a lot has happened. But as an only child, I find it difficult to reminisce about the past because so much of my childhood was spent with Jennifer and her family.

Jennifer was my childhood friend, but her family became my extended family. I don’t have her with me to look back on all our times together, but I’m sure she will read this open letter and smile.

Dear Jen:

It has been a long time since we met on Rowell Avenue in Beverly. Do you remember when we actually met? I don’t. I was only 4 and that would make you 2 when my family moved in next to yours. That was May, 1977. (So, we were turning 5 and 3.) My earliest memories are of you standing at the end of the driveway, peering around the fence, holding your beloved Bumble, sucking your thumb. That was my cue you wanted me to go out and play. Where did you get that stuffed bumblebee and whatever happened to him? You loved Bumble.

When we were little, I recall playing a lot on your swing set you had at the top of the hill in your backyard — it was white and maroon if I remember correctly. And of course, you had a sandbox. We loved the sandbox. My father built me one and we’d play in mine as well. We played Yahtzee a lot, too, when we got older. I don’t know—maybe you remember things I am forgetting.

Summers were spent in your pool. Remember before your dad put in the deck? I remember him building that — once it was completed, we passed every summer swimming and hanging out around the pool. Is it me or did summer last longer when we were young? It seems like we blink and time passes right by us now.

What was the name of your first cat? It was black and white. Then you got Fluffy. We got a dog, Bingo. Our families always had pets. Do you remember the night, I don’t think your brother was born yet, we were at your kitchen table playing some board game with your grandmother? She and your grandfather were baby-sitting because it was a Friday night and your parents went out every Friday night. Well, you looked at your grandmother and asked her, “What should she call you?” (Apparently, we had no idea how I should refer to your grandmother as we were real young.) I remember her pausing for a moment and then saying, “She should call me Grammie. Everyone calls me Grammie.” From that moment on, your grandparents were Grammie and Papa to me.

There’s lots more I could write about, and I wish you were here so we could reminisce together. I am sure there is so much I am forgetting. It’s been 20 years since I last saw you. I miss you, my friend. I hope you read this and smile.

Love, Beeboo

P.S.: How did you ever give me that nickname?