Six years

The phone rang off the hook. I didn't recognize the number on caller id and I was nannying, so I didn't answer.  Again and again, it rang.  Finally a number I recognized appeared.


"Emily, it's Ruth.  Your friends have been calling here all day trying to get ahold of you.  They have something really important to tell you. I think you should call them back."


Dumbfounded, I sank into a chair.  What I originally insisted must be a cruel joke sank in as reality.  Annika carried her kiisu to me, set Snowflake in my lap and took my hand in hers, placing it atop Snowflake's white head as he began to purr.  "When I'm sad, kiisu helps me feel better," she explained.

Annika and I on another occasion; cuddled up for a sick day

Together, Annika, Oliver, and I garnered enough courage and composure to deal with the situation and arranged play-dates for each of the children.  I walked through the neighborhood making small talk with other parents, explaining my situation and thanking them profusely for their help.


When I got back to the house, my mom and Ruth were waiting for me out front with their bicycles.  Worried about me, they had come to my rescue as they have time and time again.  I thrust my leg over the frame of my own trusty steed, thanked my family for meeting me, then rode in the direction of home, pedaling as hard as I could. I wanted to ride infinitely, to lean into the wind and ride past the city limits, past suburbia, past any memory of the message that a dear friend had passed away.