My Friend Kim

Today I had the opportunity to be the organist at the funeral of a long time friend--my last act of service as it were.

I have known Kim for more than 20 years. My first memory of her is of a young mother singing to her infant son in the foyer of our church building as we were waiting for tithing settlement. Some months after adopting this baby, they discovered that he had fetal alcohol syndrome and would be severely handicapped. But oh how she loved that little boy with an unconditional love.

I think that the first conversation we had of any length was at a baby shower for someone in the ward. I discovered as we visited that we had some things in common and also that she didn't have many friends. My heart has always reached out to people who were lonely in that way, but I haven't always been successful in turning them into a friend--fortunately I was successful this time.

We had the love of quilting, sewing, needlework, shopping, music, books, and our families in common. She was an incredibly talented seamstress, sewing beautiful heirlooms--her daughters were always dressed in the most wonderful dresses created by their mother. At one period of time we were trading piano lessons for her oldest daughter in return for some sewing for me. I don't know who got the best of that deal!

Her talent for putting together wonderful quilts was inspiring and I have been the happy recipient of two small ones that she made just for me. She loved to teach others what she knew how to do--I learned to applique from her. I also went shopping with her many times--that woman was a shopper! She introduced me to places I'd never been before, including my favorite needlework shop, Shepherd's Bush, in Ogden.

In those early days of our friendship Kim was a little prickly and easily offended, tending to hold grudges. More than once when I was on outings with her she made salesclerks and restaurant servers cry. Those times were hard for me, but I persisted with our friendship because I thought she was worth it.

Some years ago things changed. Kim was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and I watched helplessly as it took it's toll on her body. She had many surgeries, complications, and other illnesses that also attacked her. However, I was privileged to witness the miracle that took place over this time period--the thing that ravaged her body was refining her spirit. I saw her soften and become patient with others' human frailties, doing everything in her power to serve others, making other true friendships along the way. I believe that Kim knows what the refiner's fire means. How sorry I am for the amount of suffering she endured, but I am so happy for the person she became.

Our outings became fewer over time--she couldn't manage the stairs to my home, so most of our visits were in her home or via the phone. I knew that when Kim called me that I should take a comfortable seat because we were in it for the long haul. We commiserated over hard things, rejoiced in the successes of our families, and generally solved the problems of the world.

As Jim sang Each Life That Touches Ours For Good for the funeral today, he was singing the truth for me. Kim has truly touched my life for good and I will miss her. For all those years ago when I thought that she could benefit from having me for a friend, I have been the true beneficiary. Rest, dear friend.