A Tribute to Ev

It was such an honor to be asked to share memories of my friendship with Ev at his funeral yesterday. The service was a beautiful memorial to a life lived with passion and love for people and for God. To know Ev, to be his friend since childhood, was a blessing. He is sorely missed - but the fact that he is with the Father and is completely well is glory. 

Dear Ev,

I wish I would have been asked to share memories of our childhood at your wedding reception or thirtieth birthday party. Reminiscing those years with you, both of us digging up childhood antics and reliving them together would be my choice. I want to hear the stories from your point of view too.

Our friendship started 22 years ago - with our parents being such close friends, it was only natural that we, too, would be friends.

I remember a time where you and I weren't quite cool enough to keep up with our older brothers, so when they deserted us, we started our own club. I was the bossy president and you were the member who had to pay an initiation fee. You obliged. However, willingly? I'm not sure.

We spent countless hours out in the hay loft of that dairy barn. We built forts among the hay bales, complete with tunnels and dead ends and booby traps. We played cops and robbers, freeze tag, and broom sock out there. Burying each other in the soybeans, freshly harvested, still in the grain wagon and walking through those cow pies, soft and warm, letting the smelly contents squish between our toes was pure bliss. I think I even convinced you that mud puddles taste sort of like chocolate milk if you are thirsty enough. The kitchen tap was a good 200 yards away, and we were so dehydrated that we wouldn't have made it that far.

Summers were spent swimming in the pond, playing king of the raft or having diving and flipping competitions with our brothers. We would beg our moms to let us go out before lunch, and as soon as lunch was over we would be begging to go out again. The thirty minutes we had to wait so our food would settle before swimming was an eternity in our ten year old minds.

In the winter we were back on the pond, although this time we were bundled up and playing hockey on the ice.

One summer day I was at your house when you got home from school. You were going to ride in the combine with your dad and invited me along. Climbing into the cab barefoot, I somehow managed to pinch my big toe in the door, immediately the nail turned black and eventually fell off. You were so worried about me and kept asking if I was okay.

I could go on and on with memories of those carefree days, of "night out" every other Friday, where you and your siblings would come to my house or vice verse, so that our parents could enjoy a date night without the trouble of finding a babysitter, of biking the Outlet trail on Sunday afternoons, of riding the four wheeler at full speed through the fields.

Peers would tease you about me, and you were quick to tell them that I was a girl and I was a friend, but I was not your girlfriend.

Our friendship did change as we reached our teenage years. While we no longer did everything together, we still hung out with the same group of friends and saw each other often. You had such a quirky sense of humor and could always make me laugh. You also had a very caring heart and put effort into relationships. To many of us, you were a very close friend.

As we got back to your house after riding in the combine that day I pinched my toe, you proudly told your older brothers that I was the bravest girl you knew, because even though it hurt like crazy, I didn't cry at all. Ev, today I am trying so hard to be brave, but the pain of losing you, my closest childhood friend, is so much greater than anything I have ever experienced physically and the tears won't stop coming no matter how hard I try to hold them back.

Your life has been such an inspiration to me. You lived those 22 years with passion and energy, and I wish I would have told you how much I admire you before you were gone. Because of you, I want to grow in relationships; because of you, I want live more fully.

I love you. I miss you.

Sarah