A Big Long Semester

This semester was arguably one of my hardest semesters. It is very likely that my job of little reward and my financial whoas contributed to this. I had to read ten books for one class alone. In another class my teacher was so ditzy and impossibly easy that it was frustrating. For example, my friend got 100% on an assignment she didn't even do, and 50 points extra credit on a presentation that was two weeks late. Two classes I had with a professor who was brilliant but also very particular and demanding, which ate up pretty much all of my free time for the greater part of the fall. I thought for sure I'd get a B in at least one of her courses, but it turns out that my final grade will be a 90, hopefully allowing me to have another all As semester.

I have only one semester to go now until I have completed my degree. It has been about a year and four months since I've interacted with my best friend. The absence is heavy. I find it difficult to feel the achievement of my successes, knowing that she isn't here to share them with or to continue having her own. It is a kill joy. I'd sacrifice everything, all success, to get her back here, and I guess there is some part of me that really wishes such a thing was possible, hence the waining enthusiasm. With another end of a semester, it is another semester I have to acknowledge that Verny didn't have.

This time of year is proving tough again in relation to my Veronica not being around. I remember how for so long I had been looking forward to spending a Christmas in Bristol, mostly so that I could spend it with her, and finally when I found a means of doing so she wasn't there for it. It is like one of my goals in life that can never come to fruition I guess. And I'm thinking about that again. It seems like such a simple wish, you know? A realistic dream that, as it turns out, could never happen. Some things in life are like that.

And then there is my approaching birthday. I'm 9 months older than Verny, so that is all good and well, but soon here I will turn 24. The distance grows, and I get to thinking about the things I'm going to go through in the rest of my life--transitions, phases, lifestyles, generations--that she won't have in this world that we know. I know we've already had our different experiences, and we've both gone through different things even while she was here, but we had each other to confide in and lean on and feel cool around no matter what was happening. I've got my bro, but that isn't the same type up understanding and camaraderie of Verny. Some things between Verny and I were just un-relatable outside of our friendship.

I've got to somehow start believing that the things I do are worthwhile and worthy of my interest even without Veronica here. But it is hard to care when she isn't here to progress alongside of me, when we can't braid our victories together. It is just me going on about it for the both of us. I'm definitely thankful that I have been blessed to be a part of the lives of Verny's parents and sister, and this is a huge help in that by our unity, in some sense, Veronica is still existing and making a difference. Even with that, though, there is a loneliness sometimes. My peer, confidante, emergency midnight caller, spontaneous adventurer isn't here. She is the coolest person I have ever known and will ever know in the whole world. She got me. She never didn't get me. And she is gone.

I remember the last couple of years when Verny was having academic trouble because of her sleeping issues. She wasn't getting good sleep because of her sleep apnea, and because of this she couldn't focus and she turned to energy drinks to get vitalized. To be honest, I think the energy drinks promoted the incapability of focus, as I have found in recent yet occasional soda drinking when I'm attempting assignments. Living far from campus must have also been tough, because it is out of the way to use school's resources, but staying home can sometimes be so distracting. I was worried for her, and I expressed my feelings. We'd sometimes have intellectual dialogue about the various nutritious options for gaining healthy and lasting energy, but in the end Verny would choose the quick fix and shut me up with a Mountain Dew.

I curbed my soda drinking habits in June do to overwhelming evidence of looming health issues. Even though Verny supported my soda drinking habit, I wonder if and hope that she supports my new, healthier direction.

This past Verniversary, Veronica Day, Vern's B-day, whateveryouwanttocallit, was the most perfect way that we could spend it. I hope we all find a perfect way that we can celebrate Christmas in a way perfect for Veronica, too.

Irish Lullaby (to Verny, love Rene)

Revised Lyrics: Stay With Me, Veronica

Hello VIPs (Verny's Important People),

Finally I feel confident that I have a little time to sit down and write on Verny's blog. Just so everyone knows, this site is open to any time you wish to share with other folk about anything and everything concerning Veronica. I don't plan on going anywhere; I plan on sticking around and keeping it going. I hope you feel the same, or at least that if you are not comfortable with sharing, you can enjoy the things I myself and others post.

I posted a song I was working on a few months back, and now that it has reached lyrical finalization (and near completion in the studio) I thought I'd go ahead and post the revision. If anyone would like a copy of the song when it is complete, just let me know and I will find a way of getting to you. I know I'm hard to get contact information on, but if you can't get in touch with me on here or in email, Verny's folks are a sure way of getting to me.

This song was inspired off of a dream I had, of Veronica as a little girl, standing in front of the glass doors leading to her balcony. Sunlight was pouring in all around her--you could hardly see her smiling features it was so bright--but her smile was enormous and she was jumping and dancing and saying something along the lines of "I'm a luckiest girl in the world!" Somehow the way I registered this during my dream, as if it were the unquestionable context of the statement, was that she had a great and happy life, and that she was thankful for every person that made it that way, but especially to her parents.

The song is a story about the destiny and legacy of our friendship, though there truly isn't much exposition about the fine details so much as the epic of it actually occurring. I could never get over how lucky I was to have Veronica, someone who understood better than anyone else in the world. I thought about that a lot during our friendship; it was magical to me that I'd been lucky enough to find someone so special, with such a unique yet familiar soul and approach to life as me. At the very least, my attempt was to capture that feeling, yet in retrospect. I hope that others can find their own significance and comfort in this story and these words, the way that I often do.

Stay With Me, Veronica

I was thirteen

I had a dream I was a toddler again

Passing by that old playground

She was there so I stuck around

Ash brown hair blowing everywhere

Sitting sideways on a swing

Running and hiding behind a tree

Looking under rocks

She was climbing up the slide

When she said

I'm your best friend

We haven't met yet

I've got ten years left

And I want to see

What you've got to show me

So don't walk slowly

If you want to keep up, stay with me.

Woke up at the bell ending geometry

Went on to history class

Sat in a third row seat

I never felt so bored or alone

'Til she came and sat down next to me

I knew that hair, those eyes, that smile

The ancient soul within the child

And when she laughed the sun shown through

The dusty windows of this room

Then she said

I'm your best friend

We finally met

Only got ten years left

So I want to see

What you've got to show me

Please don't walk slowly

'Cause I want you to keep up, and stay with me

Stay with me

Can you teach me how to fly like you?

Looks like you're going too far too soon.

But last night I dreamed that she said

With every butterfly you've got to say goodbye

I hope you know I never planned on saying goodbye

I'm positive at least you lived before you died

And the years lapped us by

As we stuck beside each other

Kept on telling stories,

Her days of glory were all mine too

But last night I dreamed again

That she said

I'm your best friend

But now we met

Haven't got any time left

To say goodbye

But keep on showing

What you had to show me

The world's not going to wait up

So don't walk slowly

And I said you're my best friend

But now we met, and I can't stand

To see you go

Why can't you stay with me, Veronica, Veronica

Stay with me, Veronica, my Veronica

I was thirteen.

Princess of Yonder Hill

T'was nigh at hand, so long ago

On eve of five July,

I came across on yonder hill

A path that t'would be mine

Criss-crossed the slopes and cutting grass

With ends that past high knee

Came 'pon a girl near twenty-two

And watched from 'hind a tree

Sweet songs, sang she, with lips unmoved

To flowers far and wide

Brown locks of curls bounced with her dance

Barefoot alongst hillside

Her smile kept the sun awake

Her laugh made green things grow

And dance, did she, 'til hours were wee

And I had turned to go

Alas, come find to my surprise

As glance was cast away

Stood front of me, n'other but she

And bid me that I stay

With eyes of colors 'cross the world

And colors yet to know

She offered me her gentle hand

T'was from thince we did go

Up top the hill she guided me

Her footfalls soft as snow

We danced beneath the blinking stars

Her song it ever flowed

Yet as the new day rose again

It faded to the trees

The winds did sweep her off the ground

Stole her away from me

And nowadays, walk here do I

On path well-tread and kept

Remember my Veronica

And all the she did left

The tree on which I once did lean

To watch this creature dance

Still bears the mark of where she stood

Gold footprints long have last'

And on the field where wince she was

When autumn warms the air

Her purple flowers climb the hill

And grow thick everywhere

Along hilltop where once she twirled

Now golden flowers grace

Spelling her name, Veronica,

Amongst the purple lace

'Tis on this eve of five July

And on this hill alone

You can still hear her songs of old

Beneath a fading sun.

Piano Aficionado

Verny was good at, well, everything she did. She was so good, in fact, that on occasion I'd be rendered speechless--dumbfounded at her natural grace.

One of Verny's talents that always caught me up was how she could play piano. Verny's mum said that her piano teacher was amazed at her ability to sightread from such a young age. Me and Verny watched some of her childhood home videos last summer. One of them was a piano recital, and it was jaw-dropping to see a tiny Verny, maybe seven at the time, take her little steps up to the piano and play a piece that demanded wide-eyed glances, and maybe the occasional moistened cheek, from the audience. We watched it a few times. Sometimes I laughed at her demeanor in the video, that even as a child she had this "it's no big deal" attitude. But sometimes all I could think was "wow." It was surreal to me.

When Verny sat down in front of a piano or keyboard, it was clear that she owned it, no matter whose it was or what the location. Any time I saw the opportunity, I would ask if Verny could play something for me--I didn't care what it was, I just wanted to watch. When I got the chance to see Verny play (lucky me), it was mesmerizing. Her fingers delicately yet powerfully probing the keys with intention and precision, leaving not one meaningless moment. It was as if time had stopped--reality was outside, and inside was the life and song of the captivating Veronica.

I think it is fitting, then, kind of like a book-end, that my last moments with Veronica, in person, was on a quiet summer night, playing a keyboard in her parents den. I had been working all evening and didn't get back 'til late. She hadn't given any notice that she was going to be in town, but when she texted and said "Where are you? I'm here" I dropped what I was doing with a pal and got in pretty late. It was always exciting to see my best friend's car in the driveway, and when I opened the downstairs door I could hear my keyboard faintly being played by who else but she. We didn't say too much as I came into the den, walked around the coffee table, and sat next to her. We fiddled with the settings. She played remarkably, as usual, and I joined in, clearly without motive, haha, but just to be playing along. Our hands met a couple times, and we laughed, or she'd push mine out of her way. We tried some different tones. Some were really funny, and when I tried to change from some space alienesque setting she demanded, "put it back!" I obliged. She was playing My Heart Will Go On...again, in reflection, it seems fitting. But I had worked all day, had to wake up early the next morning, and at this wee hour of night I was tired.

I got up, telling her I had to go to bed. We had hoped that I would get out of work early enough the next day to go spend a little time with her in Knoxville, but she left just before I was able to get out. But our last moments, there on the couch together, were bursting with significance beyond what we were then able to recognize. As I left the room, only partially closing the sliding door, I could hear Vern faintly continuing to play My Heart Will Go On until I dozed off to sleep.

Veronica & Cigarettes

It was the summer after her freshman year of college that Verny become curious about the habit of smoking cigarettes. She had several friends at the time who partook in the activity--it was mostly a communal endeavor between close friends, and Verny caring so much about those who she's close to, wanted to know what it was like.

I don't know if this was the first time Verny put a cigarette to her mouth, but that summer at my friend Nickie's house was the first time she did it in my presence. At the time, I might have been under the heavy influence of the Truth campaign against cigarettes, not to mention a drink or two, but as I walked around Nickie's house, alas, I could not find Verny. I tried the backyard, and viola, there she was amongst the smokers. She smiled at me, and I tried telling her to come back inside but she just shook her head. I turned to go, and turned back to see her quickly put an arm back behind her. Verny was holding a cigarette! "Is that what I think it is?" I asked her in an almost punishing tone. Verny relaxed her arm and sure enough, a burning cigarette lay between her middle and index fingers. "Verny," I said, slowly bringing my eyes to hers with a face nearly as red as a firetruck, "if you take a puff of that. I'm going to smack your face right off."

We stood there for a while, daring each other with our eyes amid several friends who had gathered around. I'd have never intended serious harm on Verny, but I figured (at least at that time in the night) a good smack would render a lot less damage than the flem, tar, smell, and pocket pinching that such a nasty habit would tug along. Verny smirked, slowing brought the cigarette to her lips, and puffed.

Naturally, being a person of my word, I sent her horizontal with a smack that knocked the cigarette out of her mouth. And then the Verny siren went off. For the first time in my life a was terrified of my best friend, and she was chasing me like a madwoman around the backyard as I half laughed and half screamed at our predicament. One couldn't deny the sheer comedy of the situation, yet if Verny had got her hands on me I'd have surely been toast.

I don't know how I managed to not get beat up, but Verny got tired of chasing me, assuming she'd get me back later I suppose, and as the night progressed the incident was forgotten. Well, for the most part, considering that I still remember it pretty clearly!

After that evening, I'd see Verny having an occasional cigarette. She liked menthol, then switched to green apple. She liked the taste, and said they gave her the feeling of being light, as any ballerina is I guess. Verny knew I didn't particularly enjoy being around smoke, even if I wasn't so against it as I used to be, so for the most part she didn't smoke around me when at all feasible. On our last beach trip, in 2008, I got her and Jesse a souvenir: a pirate ashtray. Verny loved it, and told me she loved it for more than just what it was, but for the fact that I got it for her, even though I didn't condone to or like cigarettes. She said it showed that I had an open mind, loved her for who she was, and wanted her to be happy. That is the truth if I ever heard it!

The last cigarette smoking incident I encountered with the Vern was last year, on the 4th of July. My friend Cary came over to Veronica's parents, and brought his friend Adam, who is a smoker. Vern has (for the most part) tried to keep her smoking on the down low from her parents. But if you know Vern, you know what a thrill-junky she is in the department of risk, thus she decided to have a cigarette with Adam in the driveway. Low and behold, who but Verny's father comes out of the house, in clear view of the driveway! "Urrghh, it's my dad!" Verny cringes. She tries to inadvertently hide the cigarette by changing her angle, but as her father approaches he gets a curious, amused look on his face. So Vern, not knowing what to do, runs and hides on the other side of the SUV, as if that will mitigate the issue! Her dad laughs openly as they play cat and mouse around the SUV, even looking beneath to watch footsteps, and finally Vern gives up the post, and they finish their cigarettes together.

Words Defect

Words fall short of all of the odes I wish to dedicate to Veronica. I think that, like me, many of you have an endless bank of memories with Veronica that you cherish, and yet to demand them into the forms of words and sensible syntax suddenly renders them insignificant or fleeting. If only there was a way to relate into the air--outside of ourselves--the true essence of what these memories are: the emotional high, pull of muscles in a smile, the related inside jokes, and responses... but maybe that is what makes memories all the more precious. They are something that, no matter how hard you try to relate it to others, it is an intimate reality that belongs to only you and the individuals with which it was shared.

Every day I remember anew a memory I hadn't thought of in such a long while. The one and only time before I moved that I spent the night at Veronica's house. How she'd deliberately mess up any given Moulin Rouge song so that embarrassment of bad notes would not ensue. Fake-crying for a whole 20 minutes or so while amusing Verny and Lori with an improvised character. The countless times we walked along State Street and men tried to pick us up... hahaha.

It is humbling to know that of all people in the world, and decidedly awesome Veronica found me to be a special friend--one that she could confide in, laugh with, and just genuinely feel comfortable with when everything else seemed awry.

And I wonder about my life, the one that will never be the same because of the consciousness in knowing Veronica. I wonder if she is going to watch me grow, and what sort of impression that has on her. Will she grow with me? Will she be influenced by my situations? Or will she only go so far as she lived? I will always relate to her, but will I reach a point in my life in which she can no longer relate to me?

Whatever the case, I'm certain that no amount of growth will ever rule out the personality effects I've contracted in knowing Veronica. I'm afraid it's terminal...and I couldn't be happier about it.

A Song I'm Working On

You're My Best Friend

(rough draft)

I was thirteen, I had a dream
I was a toddler again
Passing by that old playground
She was there, so I stuck around
Ash brown hair blowing everywhere
Sitting sideways on a swing
Running and hiding behind a tree
And looking under rocks
She was climbing up slides
Singing lullabies
And she said
I'm your best friend
We haven't met yet
I've got ten years left
And I want to see
What you've got to show me
So don't walk slowly
If you want to keep up
Stay with me

Middle school dragged me along
A deadweight of preteen lament
But I hadn't spent my days yet
With someone so profound
To make the world stick out
She could blur a crowd
She didn't give a shit,
And I wondered then if she knew
I got pulled out of a box
When she walked in
I didn't know who I was
Or who I wanted to be
Until she said
I'm your best friend
We finally met
Only got ten years left
So I want to see
What you've got to show me
Please don't walk slowly
'Cause I want you to keep up
And stay with me

And the years lapped us by
As we stuck beside each other
Kept on tellin' stories
Her days of glory were all mine too,
But last night I dreamed again...
That she said I'm your best friend
But now we met, and I got to go,
So keep on showing
What you had to show me
I promise it ain't over
But the worlds not going to wait up
So don't walk slowly

And I said you're my best friend
But now we met, and I can't stand
To see you go...
Why can't you stay with me
Veronica, Veronica?
Stay with me
Veronica, my Veronica.

Resilience

Today I am thankful for Verny's resilience. It didn't happen often, but whenever she got embarrassed or mad or just uncomfortable in any way, she would go off by herself and cry a little. Five minutes later, she'd coming back skipping and smiling, as if nothing had happened at all! Verny took the time out to acknowledge her feelings, determine how she felt about them, and find some answer to make her realize that it wasn't worth bringing the rest of her day down. To me, this is true resilience, to confront those moments without hesitation, settle it right away, and then move on to better things. I found this inspiring about Verny, and I've always looked up to and tried my best to follow in those footsteps.

Join Me and Celebrate

Lately I have had to acknowledge, face-to-face, that I need to undergo an attitude change. I have a lot to be thankful for, in the face of life's tragedies, yet I've let missing Verny pull me under a lot in the last few months. Plainly said: It is hard to explore this life in a good light when your best light (Veronica) you can no longer see. Sometimes, at this very moment for instance, I think about my best friend for the blink of an eye, and suddenly all the color seems drained from the world. I'm an underdog without my superhero to follow, or a melody without its harmony.

I have let that empty feeling, for a time, overwhelm and darken my thoughts, and I suspect that some of you reading this may have done so at some point or another, as well. When I constructed my eulogy, I believed in what I said, and it is only fair that if I'm going to issue advise to others, that I follow it as well.

What I know for certain is this: That we are all blessed that Veronica was in our lives at all. How enriched we are to have known her to the extent that we did. She has changed each and every one of us in ways that we will never be able to completely know, because her impact as a righteous human being, towards anyone from loved-one to stranger, was immense and all-encompassing. What a legacy she left us with, a legacy that I'm sure she expects us to continue on.

I have created a pact with myself to acknowledge daily why I am so lucky, thankful, and blessed to have had Verny accompany me on several adventures in my life, and I'd like to invite everyone else to share in that endeavor by posting those reasons, here on this blog. Whatever you write can be as simple or as intricate as you like, just so long as you are able to reach yourself in knowing that you haven't a reason to be sad, and every reason to be happy about Veronica's existence.

:)

Elvis Costello - Veronica (live in '89)

Delightful

Mourning for Veronica is a process that will forever be a part of my life. I will always think of her, long to talk to her, and wish I could tell her I love her one more time. I found this quote a while back and rediscovered it recently. It seemed to speak to me -

"When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you will see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."
-Kahlil Gibran

Veronica was my delight. I was so delighted to be her sister, delighted to spend time with her, delighted to laugh with her, delighted to talk to her, delighted to just be close to her. She brought delight to my life and I miss her delightfulness. 8i8 :)

-Tonda Belitz Reynolds

.

Veronica = Greatness

Fragments

It has been over a month since I've posted anything. That is alright, I suppose. This is a place where people can share their stories and thoughts any time they ever want to. Lately... I've had trouble writing down anything about Verny, not because I'm short on anything... it has just been painful for me to try recently. In the play I'm currently in, I am a marine who has returned home after seeing war atrocities, and civilian casualties as well as comrades. The character goes through PTSD, and then reflects and reveals thoughts about the loss of life, and the sensations accompanied in being a survivor.

Basically, for pretty much this entire month, my grief for Verny has been manifest into this character, especially this week, as it was opening week for the production. As you can imagine, calling upon all of those emotions you feel, about not being able to share the world with a person you love most, day after day, is a trying task. I've had tears on and off stage, but since crying naturally wears you out, I've had to do my best to avoid pondering Verny too much in private life, least a drain myself and have no energy left during the production.

There is a brief and ambiguous monologue I have, near the end of the play, that for most of the last two months has looked to me like a random grouping of words about being in the middle of nowhere. I simply wasn't connecting with it, nor understanding its purpose. However, on opening night, when my character finally hooked into me (it's an actor thing), the words finally clicked. I was sitting on stage, in the "background" before my cue, during which time I was thinking about all the things that have been hard to face in acknowledging Verny's absence. My cue came, and I walked towards the spotlight, thinking about a day that Glenda and I took a trip to Maryville. We took lots of flowers to various loved ones. Our last stop was with a very special loved one--Veronica. I couldn't get out of the car, I couldn't even look outside. I was suffocating. My heart stopped, and I began my lines:

In the aftermath,
One feels the chill in the countryside
The low-lying white mist
Shards of farmhouses in the haze
Shattered stones
No grass
No ruins
Empty streets
And silence
No living thing
No bird, no animal broke the silence
No dogs
No children
Not one stone left standing on another
Rather a wilderness of stones
Even if you could trace it for a distance
There would be a chance of getting lost
Because there is no sign of direction

Something Blue

I love the way Veronica and I were relaxing with each other and holding hands in the first picture. She was so unique, even at this age! :) Oh, how I love her!

~Tonda Belitz Reynolds
Jude Reynolds and Ella Reynolds

A Letter in January

Dear Veronica,

To say I miss you is an understatement. There isn't an hour that goes by that I don't think of you, or that I'm not reminded of you. Sometimes it makes me laugh, and sometimes it makes me sad. Maybe it is that the world, being fallen as it is, couldn't handle an angel like you--someone with such clearly positive intent.

I know you don't miss me, because you're with me all the time, and I'm trying to reach that level of acceptance, under which terms I can embrace that I don't need to miss you so much when I'll always have you in my heart, in my memories, and in all of the pass-times we shared and causes we were passionate about.

But this letter isn't about that. I just wanted to share with you how lucky I consider myself to be, to have had such an opportunity to be your very best friend, and to have you as mine. You impacted loads of people (and animals!) in your time, but you were profoundly influential to me. You taught me so much about what it means to love unconditionally, and what it is to be a true friend. You taught me without words, but instead just by being yourself, and every day we were together made me into a better friend, and a better person. You taught me invaluable life skills in the department of compassion, patience, and friendship in general, but most importantly you gave me irreplaceable experience. You gave me the chance to be an important and solid figure in your life, where I could practice and apply the tools you gave to me without obligation or disposition. I could never do it all as gracefully as you, but the trust we had meant the world to me, Verny, And if I had it all to do over again, I'd do it as many times as I could.

While I'm sad that our time has ended, I am ever grateful for the time we've had, because I know it has shaped me into a better person than I could have ever been without it. I will always cherish you, my very best friend, for all of the goodness you gave to me in the years that we had together, and I can't wait to see you again.

Thanks Verny. I love you.

Across the Universe

Veronica and I met ten years ago, through our mutual friend Nicole Dirlam, in 7th grade. We instantly connected, and even though we didn't make any efforts to hang out exclusively for another year or so, we were always very ecstatic when we had the chance to hang out at a friend's sleepover or outing.

Of course, we ended up becoming the best of friends, but we'd hardly had two years together when it was already time to say goodbye: I was moving 700 miles away, to Missouri, and there was no telling when or if I would be back.

But, as you all surely know, for Veronica no door ever closed unless she wanted it to, and I wasn't getting away that fast.

My mum happened to think it ever-so-convenient to move at the beginning of summer, so that Steve and I could have no friends for at least the first three or four months. (Yeah, thanks!) Luckily, me, Verny, and Lori had already arranged to talk on the computer every night. For a while we'd had an AOL chat going that we called "Smurfyville", in which we'd all correspond and occasionally invite a crush or boyfriend in to join the circus. It was, in a way, our cyber clubhouse where, even if we were grounded or had to stay at home because it was a school night, we could always hang out.

When I moved, we ended up switching our chat to Yahoo Messenger, so that we could utilize the webcam and voice options. Not that we talked; for the most part, we only used our microphones to make weird noises, and to illustrate when we laughed. The biggest fun, besides the rainbow font option (naturally), was the webcam games that we played. One was called Copy Cat, in which someone would make any sort of expression she wanted, pause the camera, and the other two would imitate her pose, upon which she'd proclaim a winner, who would then be the new "Face Maker" until another winner was proclaimed. My personal favorite, however, was our Funny Face game, where we would all contort our faces to the most obscure, maxed-out ugly expression possible, pause our cameras, and then laugh our arses off until we could unanimously declare who made the weirdest expression. At the end of the day, I think it's fair to say that we were all winners at that one. :P

I could continue the long-distance stories in detail, as they are what made up a large bulk of my memories with Vern, but then this post would never end. So I'll get to the point.

Throughout the course of our friendship, most of that time spent far apart, Veronica would never let the distance defeat our comradeship. When other friends started moving in other directions, physically and figuratively, near and far alike, Veronica was right there with me through thick and thin. I've moved around a lot, made a lot of big decisions, taken paths I didn't expect to and met challenges I'd never dreamed of having. And throughout it at, there she was. When I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it to Bristol the summer after I graduated, she bought and mailed me bus tickets. When the opportunity arose, she came to visit me when I lived in St. Louis. Anytime I came to Bristol she'd find a way to come up from Knoxville to visit me, and when I wanted to see a concert in Asheville she drove all the way from UT to UVA in Charlottesville to pick me up, go to the concert, and take me back home. Who does that? Who goes well out of their way--across the universe and back--to make a positive impact on someone else? My best friend did. She was and will always be, truly, one of a kind.