The Only Good Gift

Ingrid and I gave each other more than a few presents over the years. But once we grew up, we developed a winter holiday ritual.

Every year, she'd send me a CD of music she was sure I'd never listen to otherwise, and I got to see how her taste in music grew and changed over tme. Music was the measure of her life. And every year, I'd send her some sort of interesting and unusual calendar, because she was interesting and unusual, and because I wanted to give her time.

Time was important to us--we talked often about the many years we had loved each other, the ways our friendship had matured and changed, and what we would be like as old women.

In the end, it turns out, we gave each other the most important thing we had to give. We gave each other time.

I consider it an honor to have been part of the progression of Ingrid's life--to have known her as a girl and to see the woman she became.

I miss them both.

--Caren Crockett