12 days of heather, day 9

i wrote this series remembering my best friend who was making pastries at windows on the world when she was senselessly killed by strangers with hate in their hearts. it’s been 18 years since i’ve seen her face, put my arms around her, eaten a meal she’s made. i wrote this to feel connected to her. i share it so that you might too.

day nine
these 12 days would not be complete without reference to heather and the malias. though i'd known heather since 7th grade and malia since 6th, it wasn't until junior year that hedge plucked us from our respective corners of the punahou campus and decided we would make a good team. in the coming years, she would polish us up: she taught us both how to dress, how to eat, how to drink, how to have limitless, carefree fun, how to take life--and ourselves--a little less seriously. she deprived us of untold hours of sleep, while we sat up talking about food, and john irving, and the french revolution. we nursed each other through bad break-ups, bad jobs, and bad hair. no matter what went on in our lives and how many miles and years intervened, we always came back to each other. we were touchstones; our relationship was seminal...essential. this picture was taken as i dressed for my wedding in new orleans. they were my best women. there is another photo in this series, taken closer up of just our faces. malia and i stand close, smiling broadly. hedge is right next to us, smiling just as big, but you can clearly see that her eyes were filled with tears. that was her. she felt so deeply and loved us so well.