For Allie | A Personal Post

I had planned on being productive tonight. My head was swimming with a never ending to-do list. Just a normal night.

My husband, Steve, and I were laughing along to a TV comedian when suddenly the world got quiet. Steve had muted the TV. And was muttering to himself “This is so, so bad. No…no” I wasn’t prepared for what came next.

Our absolutely amazing friend Allie had been hit while driving her mo-ped and been killed in the crash.

And I simply cannot process that.
Because Allie was truly one of the best people I have ever known.  

This blurb will not be the most coherent- nor the most beautiful thing I have written- but I need for it to be said. With tears streaming down my face, and with words swirling in my head I’m trying to describe my sweet, sweet friend.

Beautiful, Brave, Compassionate, Independent, Loyal, Intelligent, Bubbly, Adventurous, Fashionable, Generous, Authentic, Kind
These words can't do you justice.

I wouldn’t have ever dated my husband without you. You secretly encouraged both of us, double wingman-ing with neither of us realizing it. Playing us both up to each other, setting us up on dates that ‘weren’t dates’, convincing Steve that it would be really amaaazing to sit through the six hour Pride & Prejudice while the two of us danced around during every waltzy scene. In many ways, I owe my very family to you, Allie. Your matchmaking and non-stop intervening is how I first fell in love with Steve.

You saw me for who I truly was. I could always be my truest self around you. You once described me to Steve as “someone who expects you to help with everything. But only because she wants to help you with everything too” I had never thought of myself that way. But it was so accurate.

You told me once how much you loved my obsession with sunsets. Most people don’t take the time to notice, you said, and even if they did notice they didn’t gush about them. But you loved sunsets too. And would pull over to gawk at them with me.

You’ve held me while I’ve cried over a broken heart. I’ve laughed with you so hard that I’ve peed my pants. And absolutely everything in-between.

For a long-distance friendship it was such an easy, beautiful one. Always just picking up where we left off. Last Spring we trekked out to Boston to see you. You taught me what tapas was (and how amazing it is!), and showed us where to get the best, most authentic, Boston cream pie. And it was as if no time had passed. How could I have known that right then I had hugged you the last time? Heard your bubbly laugh for the last time bidding us farewell as you headed up a moonlit Boston street?

I will miss you so greatly, Allie. Your laugh. Your optimism. All of you.