With Love from Brittany

Sometimes I find myself wondering how it could possibly be that Georgia considered me a friend; I mean, she meant so much to so many people. It always seemed like I was running into people who not only knew her, but had some kind of special connection or relationship with her. I remember that before I even met her, I knew so much about this friendly, bubbly, sparkly girl that it made me want so badly to somehow be included in her circle. Boy was I lucky when she decided to join our string quartet The Quarter Notes--I will forever be indebted to Cami and Haleigh for bringing this lovely person into my life.

And even now, six years after her passing, I find myself second guessing myself. Did Georgia really think of me as a friend? I mean, how could there possibly be room for me in her large circle of extraordinary people she called friends!

I've found, though, that when I begin questioning myself, she sends little reminders to me to reassure me that I am her friend and that our friendship is as special to her as it is to me.

One reminder came the week she passed away. I flew home to Salt Lake for her funeral, and was able to hold a newborn niece for the first time. As I held that little bundle, so recently sent from the place Georgia now was, I felt Georgia's love. I came to realize that life is made of meetings and partings, and it's up to us what we do with them. Do we wallow in grief when someone parts from us, or do we rejoice in the time they were allowed to touch our lives?

Another reminder came from Georgia two months after her passing. A new guy appeared in my singles' branch in Cleveland and I heard from a friend of mine he had served with Georgia in Nauvoo. I went up to him after sacrament meeting, stuck out my hand, and blurted out, "you knew Georgia???" before I even introduced myself, taking him quite off guard. We hit it off immediately, because we started our conversation with reminiscences of our dear friend. And five years of marriage and two children later, I call this guy my husband. We are so grateful for the tiny way in which Georgia brought us together. We've often imagined her smiling down on that first meeting of ours, laughing at the whole impossibility of it.

This summer I held auditions for some chamber groups I coach and, as I was preparing to teach these young students, I was filled with wonderful memories of my time making music together with Georgia and our other friends. As I began again to doubt that I really could have been special to Georgia, who should walk in but her sister Paige with her daughter. We looked at each other with complete shock--and then complete joy. As my life was again reconnected to Georgia and her family, here was another reminder that my friendship with her was as true as I had remembered.

And last but not least is the reminder that came this Fall: I gave birth to my second daughter about five days after the anniversary of Georgia's passing. Matt and I decided to give her the middle name of Georgia not only to honor our friend, but to give our daughter the namesake of someone so lovely, and pure, and noble so that she can have that example to look to as she grows. And I find that every time I hold my new baby and think of her full name, I feel Georgia smiling on us both.

One of the great lessons I learned from Georgia's passing is that grief is a natural byproduct of love. My grief at her passing was so great because my love for her is so great. And I'm ok with the fact that sometimes I miss her so much it hurts, because it has expanded my capacity to love in a way nothing else could.

Ah, Chacha, I'm so grateful to have been counted among your many friends. I look forward to sharing stories and memories of you with my girls as they grow, so that they can be inspired and bettered by your life even as I have been.

Happy Birthday, friend.