Friday was Rebs’ birthday and I let it go by without a call to her or a note here. I left a voicemail yesterday and today I hope to set the posting right here.

Rebs and I met my first year in college. Actually, my roomie, Eri, met her first and then introduced me to her.

Rebs quickly became a good friend. She came home with me at Thanksgiving, was with me the first time I was pulled over by a cop (we had loaded the Tin Can’s trunk too full of laundry to wash and had accidentally disconnected a brake light), and helped us cement friendships with Kim, Jason, and John by arriving early our sophomore year and doing the hard work of getting to know them. The rest of us just coasted along on her coat tails.

Rebs is introspective and steadfast, never forgetting remotely important anniversaries or birthdays. It’s hard to believe I’ve known her for nearly 13 years (wow, we’re old!), but it’s true.

After sticking out an extra year in New England with us, she returned home to her family, her true love, and her mountains in Vancouver, Washington. We rarely get to see her, so she may not think we remember her more often than our infrequent emails or phone calls would lead her to believe. But that’s just not true. I miss her whenever I see a plant I can’t identify, that I know she would know. I miss her on Thanksgiving when she’s not there to join the rest of the family. And I miss her whenever I think of the people who have played major roles in the story of my life but gone on fame in their own shows.

Happy Birthday, Rebs. I hope it was a good one.