Todd, you and I saw each other almost every week of our lives since we were 7 years old. I could fill a book with stories about you, but I’ll just pick one. You and I were in A.L.L. together in fifth (and possibly sixth) grade. One school day, it snowed so badly that they thought the roof of the old school might collapse. We were all shuffled and squeezed into the trailers next to the school, and waited hours for our parents to be called to pick us up. Instead of playing with the other kids, you and I talked the entire time. You were in the mood to share secrets that day, and somehow you got me to admit that I had a crush on a girl (her name was Michelle). It was the first time I had ever told anyone I had a crush, and the only time that I ever admitted such a thing until dating a girl in 11th grade. What remarkable gift did you have, Todd, that from the very beginning I was willing to share things with you that I never shared with another soul? We had so much fun together and my favorite times were the times we just sat and talked. No matter how long you and I would talk, we always seemed to have more to talk about. I’m going to miss you, old friend, every day for the rest of my life. Go in peace.

-Michael-John Bristow (friend)