Today would have been her 69th birthday. I can tell you that now, since she’s passed on and won’t be hunting me down like a dog for revealing her age.
She always lied about her age. Always. It was one of those endearing things about her. Age, after all, is only a number, and the number of positive influences she had on people is far greater than her number of birthdays.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. She was one of my “pivotal people,” those people, Dr. Phil tells us, who direct, guide, and change our lives in uncounted ways.
Julie taught me about celebrating other people’s joys, and sympathizing with their losses. She epitomized the idea of doing something nice for someone just because it was, well, a nice thing to do. Cards, and sometimes flowers, arrived for numerous small occasions, and when I bought a piano so I could learn to play, she showed up at my door a few days later carrying a candelabra!
Julie was wild, she was wicked, she was my dear friend, and when I grow up, I want to be just like her. I’m sure she would appreciate that legacy. She was always the first to say, “You got something good going? Pass it on.” And I try to do just that.
Rest in peace, my friend, I miss you.
