It's been two years since you've left us, but you've never really left our thoughts, our conversations, or our lives. Mentions of you are still sprinkled here and there...usually bringing laughs, sometimes a bit of sadness, but mostly laughs and good memories.
Some time ago, probably around the time of my birthday, because it's only three days before yours and it's one of many little triggers that jog my memory back to you, it occurred to me that we are all getting so much older. We are now closer to 30s than we are to our 20s, but I'll always remember you as eternally 26. It feels easy to wallow in what may have been, but I'm going to wax nostalgic for all the adventures we were fortunate enough to experience together.
One of the best hikes that I have been on were the hunt for chanterelles. We would take some mountain road off Highway 2, drive as far as we could go, park by the end of the road (literally, the trail was washed out by the river), hike some ways and then we would encounter this magical land filled with chanterelles just ripe for the picking. The last time we went, you were the only one who remembered the trail to the magical chanterelle land and also the only one with enough sense to bring along an orange vest, because it was hunting season and none of us had plans to be mistaken for a deer and get shot. You were also the only one who more or less knew what they were doing. You checked Jen's bag and noticed there were a few non-chanterelles (and potentially poisonous mushroooms, thus saving her life) that had made it's way in there and informed me (only after we were done with our picking) that we were supposed to cut off the stems of the chanterelles not rip them out of the ground so that they may regrow next year. It was a fun afternoon, being one with our inner gatherer. Afterward we all went back to your place, where we found your very nice drawings of scantily clad women. We probably made fun of you for drawing lewd pictures and you probably said something snarky back at us.
I remember the trip because it was just another ordinary thing we did for fun. It wasn't a particularly revelatory experience that shone a light on some significant symbolism of our friendship and I'm glad for that. I worry that the longer time passes, the more I'll tend to impart some important moral theme over our friendship, and forget that the important thing to remember is just the memories of friends hanging out with one another, trading barbs, and enjoying each other's company. And it doesn't need to be given any extra layer of meaning or symbolism to feel more significant.
