i knew a girl.

I knew a girl who moved into the house next to mine at the same time as me. She was incredibly kind, always waved with a smile behind the wheel of her favorite Chevy Tracker when she backed out of the driveway on the way to get groceries at the Food Lion down the road, and if you missed her on her porch walking to get your mail, you’d surely catch her on the way back. She loved to chat over her favorite Virginia Slim shorts, which has now become one of the most nostalgic smells in the world to me.

I knew a girl who was out in the yard the day of my wedding. She was approached by a little duckling that my then-soon-to-be-husband had released into the river earlier that morning. The duckling, almost as if by fate, waddled right up to her, and he quickly became her companion for the next six years. She named him “Duck-Duck”. She and I thought he had the same mannerisms as a dog; we thought he was so funny.

I knew a girl who loved my child the instant she was told there was one growing in my tummy. She bought Pack 'n Plays & plenty of toddler toys for my child to come and play with at her home. "Please don't feel like you need to buy anything!" I remember pleading with her. She shook her head, "I want to be ready for when baby comes to play! She'll need a place to nap." I was scared of the girl’s love because I didn’t know what it was like to be loved by someone I didn’t know outside of my own spouse, childhood best friend, and family. It was new. It was scary to let someone else in, but man, am I glad I finally let her in.

I knew a girl who, in my darkest hour, I ran to. I found her. She held my hand through it all. She didn't tell me what I wanted to hear: she gave me what I needed to hear. She always guided me through in the moments I needed a true friend. That is something I will never lose sight of— no matter how much time elapses between the last time I've spoken to her and the now.

I knew a girl that I could call if I had great news, bad news, scary news, or gossip. She was the friend I could always dial. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times we must have played “telephone tag” and left 1-3 minute long voicemails about how either she had a snake slithering in one of her windows, I had a work interview that went ary, or I needed to give her the juicy details about the clerk at our favorite local gas station so: “call me when you get a chance, love you”, or something along those lines.

I knew a girl who always went above and beyond for all of my annual Halloween parties. I don’t know if it’s because she knew how much I love Halloween, if it’s because hardly anyone would ever show up to my parties and she felt bad for me, if she just loved to be the best dressed every year for the fun of it, or a mix of all three.. but either way: she'd joyfully request a cup of my husband’s Halloween annual "drink concoction", she'd situate herself on the couch, and sip as she’d conversate anyone who’d walk by. She was my favorite part of every year. I always used to tell her, “You drive safe, now!” and we’d giggle. (She’s 20-30 steps down the driveway from my house.)

I knew a girl who, when she left, she left a hole. A hole that she would never intentionally have wanted to leave. I know that if she knew she was leaving, she would have wanted to give everyone one last squeeze. One last kiss on the head or cheek. One last word. One last giggle, because man... she always loved to see you laugh. 

I knew a girl who, without saying so, had one solid intention in this life: and that was to make sure everyone she loved in this world knew they were truly loved by her, and she did that well. She did it.

I knew a girl who I hope is somewhere in Heaven or a plane of existence somewhere where she is no longer in pain. I just hope that girl knows that I loved her, too. I still love her. I think about her multiple times a day.

I knew a girl who left an impact on me that can never be replicated. However, I feel as if she’d want me to try to see the world as she did and love others as she loved others.

The way she never met a stranger. She could talk for hours to anyone and everyone about so many things. She loved to learn something new. She loved to listen. What a way to be.

The way she loved to share. She was quick to lend a hand, and I'll always take with me the advice she gave me in times of struggle. I want to be more like her.

The patience she had. She was seldom angry— I know she was capable of anger, she's only human. It was not in her wheelhouse to show it often, if at all. The time she gave to certain tedious tasks, as well, I always found to be endearing.

She was tough as they come. Nobody could handle yardwork like her. In the dog days of Summer, I'd see her sweating & panting while she'd be out cutting the grass. I used to shout across the yard to her and tell her to take a break, and she'd shout back, "I can do it! I got this." over the sound of the lawnmower. I'd smile. She'd smile back. She always inspired me to get it done, no matter the task, simply because we're women and we can.

The amount of love that radiated from such a tiny woman should truly have been studied. I have never encountered such a joyful, caring, and kind human in my life. I know that my beautiful Faye Faye may have had her dark days like we talked about, but she always had a positive outlook on any situation that flew her way.

Because I knew her, I hope I can be more like her.

What a human to experience. I am so lucky to have been considered a friend to her, because to me, I considered her an angel walking this earth.

Though I may not solidly claim any one religion, I believe that she is somewhere, in peace, and watching over those that she loved here on earth.

I love you, Faye Faye.

Love, the girl you knew, 

Your Katibug.