Happy 52nd Birthday Muff

Dear beloved Muff,
Today would have been your 52nd birthday, had you not passed beyond the veil of tears in 2009.
I like to think I would have found a great little gift for you, probably something Celtic themed, that you would have enjoyed using. I also hope that I could find a card that would tell you how much I cherished our friendship.

Instead, today I went to a Rizzmic exercise class at the Sammamish Club out in the wilds of Issaquah, which is a town you would have liked visiting. As I huffed and puffed and danced my enormously fat body around the floor, I thought of you, and I wondered what you would have thought of Rizzmic. You had quite a bit of natural talent in dance, so I believe you would have loved it.
I dedicated my long and sweaty workout to your memory, and I hope that you know that I think of you every June 1st, and I still miss you desperately.

When I go to the 30th college reunion this year, I will, I am sure, see your face along the corridors of Mary Ben and Mary Fran dorms, in the seats of TDH, and in the stacks of the library. Though the place is much changed, the bones of Clarke are the same. I only wish that I could get them to acknowledge you with a distinguished alumni award. But I gather those are only for old rich ladies who have given millions to the college over the years. You never had the money to give, but you always contributed to many charities in Marshalltown with your time and talent. The world was certainly a better place with you in it.

While I am in Dubuque, I will try to find Marios and toast to you with some Irish drink, and I will have a great time showing Nick and Jim around my favorite town in Iowa. I will hope that you are looking down from above and enjoying my rediscovery of our Alma Mater, just as if you were there.
You liked gambling, and I believe there will be gambling on the Riverboat cruise and there will also be drinking and eating of some of that great Clarke cuisine.

I imagine that Sister Carol and Ellen G will hardly recognize me, nor will I recognize them, as they've both got white hair now, and Sister Carol is retired. I will try to see Sister Sarah McAlpin and some of the other English and History dept people for you, and I will let them know how successful you were in your chosen and long-awaited career as a librarian. I will try to check your dorm room, the end one that you shared with Mary Karl in Mary Francis Hall while I am there, and I hope to trot up to Redwing and see the TV up there, where you and I watched the birth of MTV and laughed our rumps off, swearing it would be a flash in the pan.

And I will visit the Onion (union) and have a drink in your honor, remembering our study sessions and getting drunk on beer so that I could learn to dance. It is hard to believe it was 30 years ago, already. Time has just flown by. Still, it seems like so long ago that I lost you, my friend.

Rest in peace.