McPhersonSentinel - McPherson, KS
From all walks of life, people quietly and singly pursue writing. It can be fulfilling, frustrating, meaningful and maddening, but seldom optional. Members of McPherson's MacWriters blog about the writing life.
Good-bye Day
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Aug. 9, 2012 12:01 a.m.

I wrote this essay three years ago as a way to document my young daughter’s emotions as she experienced the heart-breaking event of her best friend and neighbor, moving away. I have found that writing in a narrative fashion helps capture an accurate time capsule of how life was during a cross section of our lives. Now, years later, I’m thankful I wrote this because of the story it tells.
I’m Too Little for Good-Bye Day
I already knew how to walk when Kilynn was still a baby, but we aren’t babies now, and we both run the same fast and tell the same stories and understand each other’s whispers that are just between us.
Kilynn doesn’t go to my school and she doesn’t know my “at school best friend”, but that doesn’t matter because she is my “every day, all day best, best true to the end friend”.
Sometimes I don’t really want to go to library program or Sunday School or to daddy’s basketball game, but mommy just reminds me, “but Kilynn will be there…”and I know she’ll miss me if I’m not there.
And now we are five, well Kilynn is still four, but we are big, big and old enough to play in the backyard if mommy is watching though the window. And we can even ring each other’s doorbell and leave secret notes in the mailbox if the mailman has already come.
No other kid understands how the games in my mind work like Kilynn does. We play babies, and mom and dad, and puppy doctor, and Noah’s Ark. And it always works with us. And when mommy says, “It’s almost time to start picking up,” I don’t know how I can wait until next time. So Kilynn hugs me and I hug her back. Best friend hugs last until next time.
Kilynn and me are very good and even though I’m only five, I know that not everyone has a friend who is very good.
But something has happened that is not very good. And every single hug that mommy has given me has only made it a little tiny not bad. But I still cry when I think about it sometimes.
Kilynn and her mommy and daddy and brother and all of her toys are moving seven whole miles away. I can’t walk seven miles by myself, even with my shoes and hat on. And when mommy and me make treats for school, we will probably eat them all before I get the chance to share with Kilynn.
I’m mad, but I’m even more sad. And I don’t know why someone else’s best friend can’t just move instead of mine. It’s a little better when mommy holds me and tells me about her friend who moved when she was five. And how they stayed best friends. But mommy is a grown up and I’m only five and my heart is still small and this big hurt made it break a little.
But mommy told me that when Jesus went to heaven, the apostles lost their best friend, too. And their faith in God’s promise and their friendship to each other helped them through. That’s a big thought for a little girl. But, then again, I’m not so little, I’m five. And I guess I need to be brave, for Kilynn. She’s only four, you know.

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