Six years.

Hey girl.

I sat down tonight to write you a little note, and am realizing something for the first time. In the months after your death, the notes and letters I wrote to you were simply a continuation of our friendship and conversation. Life was then still a continuation of you.

Now I am pouring over photos, letters, my scrapbook of you and the memory book Michelle put together for your family on your 20th birthday. Eyes wet; I miss you.

Six years have past.
Things has changed now. Writing to you is no longer a continuation of our conversations. Here I am, 25, married, and I feel like the life that I've lived since your death has been as long as my whole life up until your accident. And so now when I sit down to write you a note, I am writing to 19 year old Katharine, but I am 6 years older. And there is no way to create your future or imagine who you would be today. It's really bizarre.

I love looking back on who you were and the impact you had on so many people. How blessed we were to have a friend like you who was so sincere, kind, fun, bold and hilarious. Our memories were so sweet and innocent. And raw, as we wrestled to understand this life. Saying goodbye to you was absolutely the most difficult thing I have had to do to this point, and somehow it has spurred on the most significant growth, gut-wrenching, painful, life giving growth.

Somehow you have shifted and become a memory - instead of a reality, a tangible part of life, you are a cherished, wonderful memory, always in my heart.
Thank you for your friendship,
for being YOU, always true,
for our crazy, fun, teenage memories,
for being a faithful friend,
for sharing what we knew about life at that point,
for challenging, teaching
for loving me and accepting me as I was.
You are a treasure.

You have changed my life more than you could imagine Katharine, and I rejoice when I think about how you are relishing in God's presence right now - I eagerly await the day that our souls are reunited. What a beautiful embrace that will be!
Love you long time,
Sarah

PS. Just so you know, I wore waterproof mascara on my wedding day in honour of your wisdom and I still pull out those incredible fluorescent 80s leggings from time to time. I remember you every time I eat veggie chips and my cheekbones jump when I wear bronzer. Your Momma made our wedding cake and it was beautiful. I carried you with me all day. xoxo