We were like Pooh and Piglet forever friends. We were born next door to each other, and there was not a time when I didn't know her. We played, fought, got into mischief, (boy did we get into mischief) went to school, slept, and ate with each other.  Her name was Ruth.

Ruth and I shared everything, until one day when we were about 10 years old, her mom became ill and was hospitalized for a long time, the whole family soon moved away. I missed my friend.

Ruth and I kept in contact for awhile, and then we kind of moved on, never losing track of each other but did not share the closeness we once did. We lived far apart but we still met on occasions over the years.
                            
The community that where we played and laughed together as children, became dormant in late 1950's and in 1990 a group decided it was time for a community reunion for 1992. Ruth and I made contact again, and from that day on we continued to regain that closeness we once knew.  We spent an entire week together at the reunion and visited all the places where we had played as children.  It was so wonderful to be together again.
                             
We remained in contact, and in 1996, I received a call from another friend, Ruth was ill.  I was so devastated that I couldn't bring myself to call her, something that I will always regret.  A month later I drove the 500 miles to see Ruth.  We hugged a lot and cried a lot.
                              
In the spring of 1997, I received a call; Ruth was not well and had been hospitalized. I went to see her and when she came home I stayed with her for a couple of weeks. The morning that I left was one of the saddest days of my life, knowing I might not see my dear friend again.

A month later, I received the fateful call. I left to drive to be with Ruth, but by the time I arrived, it was too late. The last thing I did for Ruth was to be a pallbearer. She was my dear friend and I loved her.