Elaine

Sometimes, things happen that make you feel so small--so young.

I was 4.5 miles into a 6 mile workout tonight, uncharacteristically listening to music on my phone because my iPod battery was dead. I looked down to change the song and a text from my mum flashed across the screen:
                                                           Elaine Mulkey died.

I spent the rest of my run thinking about this person I have thought of on occasion-- most recently as part of a story my mum and I told to my girlfriend over Christmas-- but haven't seen nor spoken to since I was still wearing a school uniform.

Suddenly, I was 8 years old. I was going to my first Halloween party, at Roxanne's house, and her mom and dad had dry ice and peeled grapes and cold spaghetti-- the works. I thought it was the neatest thing, standing there with a group of shrieking girls telling ghost stories.

I was at my first sleepover, and I was allowed to bring my sister Elizabeth-- my true best friend, always included in endeavors at the Mulkey house. Flashes of birthday parties filled with Lisa Frank, Twister games, and diaries with heart shaped locks and keys. A Ouija board for the girls while my sister and I hid, holding hands, in the laundry room while Elaine folded sheets.

I was 10, and it was Easter Sunday, at sunset, and Elaine was teaching my sister and I to ride streamer-handled, glittering bicycles without training wheels while my mum and our friends looked on and the orange light settled around us. I remember whooping with joy because I would never have to pretend I wasn't in the mood to ride bikes again. I was struck by the fact that we were spending a holiday evening with family of a different kind-- the kind you choose.

When my parents split up,  it was obviously a weird, difficult time for my mum, sister, and I. Elaine created a space for us in her life. She would stand there, dragging on a cigarette, running a tanned hand through cropped red hair, talking to my mum while my sister, Roxanne, and I would roam around the yard pretending we were the girls from "Now & Then" and eating popsicles or swimming at Elaine's mom's house.

She was unorthodox and fascinating. She was kind. She was real. She was a friend to my mother at a time when that was so, so important. I feel grateful for having had a chance to know her, and know she will find comfort with Him.