In my mind's eye, I can still see her as a little girl, sitting on a blanket in the grass. On that blanket beside her sat my own little girl. We were at the baseball field yet again. As usual, I'd packed up snacks and juice boxes, bug spray and suntan lotion, folding chairs and water bottles. My daughter had hauled a huge parcel of dolls from the basement, her Barbies and their attire. She was happy on those days, not because of the impending baseball game her brother was playing, but because of the sweet friend she had met at the field. Her name was Megan Chittenden.

I have so many magical memories from those summers of motherhood. Sun-kissed daughter and son playing in the sprinkler. Squeals for the ice cream truck when it trudged up the hill. Dogs and bathing suits and toys and bikes strewn all over the front lawn. Along with those children was often another little girl, Megan.

Laura was just a year older than her baseball buddy. Because of Megan, I never had to bargain with my girl that she would attend the often long and sometimes drawn out games. They sprawled out like two little dolls themselves on a blanket or in the back seat, one darling brunette, one adorable blonde.

Megan often ventured home with us after those games for ice cream and a movie. They had countless play dates and loved being together, but when school started back up, they didn't see each other very often. I remembered that golden summer with hugs from Megan given so freely. And then there was another

A few years later, I read that Megan was in a serious accident. She'd been hit by a car while crossing the road on her bike and suffered terrible injuries. But that little sprite was a fighter, and eventually she was back home from the hospital, beating the odds, making her mama and papa happy with her progress.

It was terrible news when I discovered that the Good Lord had decided to take Megan home nearly two weeks ago. Laura cried on the phone when I called her at Baldwin Wallace to tell her the news. Yes, it had been years since they'd played together, but those golden summers were still in her heart. My daughter had a lot of schoolwork, so she couldn't make it home for the wake. I went in her stead. I hugged Tina and Tim, Megan's parents, and their children and spouses.

I kissed Megan, who appeared to be sleeping, so she would know that I still loved her dearly. And I tucked a photo of Laura beneath her blanket, so those two friends would always be together. Remembering those golden summers from their childhood, and a friendship that would never end.