Post by Adrienne Hancock-Brown
Friends you had as a child never really leave your heart or your mind. They are there throughout all the joy, sorrow, and awkwardness that comes with childhood. Growing up can be such hard work… and all of us have those few childhood friends that helped us become the people we were meant to be. They forever remain in our hearts and we carry them with us, always.
Jaime was one of those people for me.
I met Jaime in 5th grade. She ended up in my class after her family moved, and she started at a new school. All of the ingredients for us to become good friends were there: houses within walking distance, and a love of the same comedies, music, and most importantly the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. (I will let it slide that Raphael was her favorite, but that was not surprising considering Jaime’s sense of humor.) Once we got through our first social studies fair together, the deal was sealed. Friends for life.
The thing is, growing apart is inevitable for most relationships, and Jaime and I were no exception. By the time college rolled around, we had completely fallen out of touch. Most of the time when this happens, you let it go. You may wonder about that person from time to time, and maybe they are even in your Facebook feed, but as time passed, this felt more and more wrong to me.
Jaime was always in the back of my mind, so I reached out.
Of course, Jaime wrote back, but instead of just the occasional “Hi, how are you? We should really get together sometime!” the two of us actually began to rekindle an organic friendship that had been put on the back burner for nearly 20 years.
20 YEARS! We had a lot to catch up on, and we did so with ease, as if we were two old friends who were catching up after one came back from vacation.
Unfortunately, Jaime and I reconnected literally days before her late stage cancer diagnosis. I was scared for her and I cursed our timing, but at the same time I was grateful for this opportunity to reconnect. Underneath the joys and sorrows the previous 20 years had brought her, Jaime was still that same person I knew as a kid: funny, compassionate, and full of hope. Hope for herself. Hope for her family and friends. Even hope for all the others sharing the same struggle.
The Jaime’s Lilac Foundation is the natural continuation of that hope. I am bound to that hope, and I am proud to help carry out her legacy. Because the bottom line is that there are just some people that you can never leave behind.
