Friends Forever

When I was growing up, my very, very, absolute best friend of all time and in the whole world, was Kim Shakeri.











[That's Kim in about 6th grade, I think. I think that's me in about 6th grade too. I hate that picture of me, but I guess that's what I looked like.]
I didn't have many friends when I was little. That seems strange when I grew up in a house with eight children, but that's how it was. Melanie was five years older and had no use for a little pesty girl like me. And besides that, it took a long time for her to forgive me for usurping her position not only as baby of the family but also as the only girl in the family. When Melanie and her best friend played Barbies, I'd ask to play with them; they'd say OK—but they made sure that my Barbie's house was as far from theirs as it could physically be. And their Barbies were never home when mine came to visit! It was usually like that when I wanted to play with them. They even made up a song about me once: "Contamination! Contamination! When Loralee comes around, you better run away. Contamination! Contamination!" (I didn't know what contamination meant, but I could tell it wasn't good. And I could still sing it for you, but I won't.) I got over it, and so did Melanie. As she got older we liked each other better and better. Now she's my best friend—after Bruce, of course.

I was popular enough in elementary school; kids liked me. But I have never been one to have a whole group of close-knit friends that I would hang out with all the time; I did best one-on-one. Hilda (not her real name), my best friend through most of elementary school, was difficult. Sometimes we got along great; but lots of times we were not speaking to each other. One time—when we actually were speaking and, I thought, getting along—she made a point to tell me that I wasn't her best friend, some other girl (whom I'd only met once or twice) was her best friend. That hurt! But when we were getting along we had fun; and she was still the best friend I had around.

In sixth grade this new girl, Kim, moved in. I thought I might like to get to know her, but "Hilda" said, "Let's not be friends with that new girl." And she said that she wouldn't be my friend any more if I befriended Kim. Well, that's not a dilemma; it's a no-brainer—for an adult. But that ultimatum was a big deal to an eleven-year-old kid who needed a friend.

It was hard for me to avoid Kim since she and I were in the advanced reading group together—a group of only six kids (and she and I the only girls). We went for a few weeks trying to ignore each other (Kim thought I was a snot—Hmmm. Wonder why?). But I still thought I'd like to get to know her. I finally told our teacher my problem, and she advised me to just try playing with Kim—even suggesting that "Hilda" might not be such a good friend if she behaved that way. So I invited Kim to come play with my dollhouse; we really hit it off and after that we were inseparable. We would walk to school together—which meant one of us walked all the way past the school to pick the other up. Every day after school we were together for hours, either at her house or mine.


Kim and I played lots of silly games together; most often it was Barbies, sitting behind my dollhouse. My Barbie, named Karen, was a wizard and hers was a Nina Ballerina doll; obviously she was a world-famous ballerina. Oh yeah!—and they had a pet tiger (named Kitty—how original!). We played Robin Hood together. Since Kim was a lot taller than I was, she played Little John and I played Robin. We made up our own country; we even had a national anthem (I remember the melody, but not the lyrics; and, no, I won't sing it for you). Kim and I both had little sisters who were three years younger than we were; our country was constantly at war with them. We often had tea with my toy china tea set. We were very proper, and gossiped with "English" accents; her name was Adeline and I was Elizabeth. We had sleep-overs as often as our parents would permit. We liked the same kind of music and books; we could talk about anything, real or invented, and completely understand each other. And we had fun!

Kim's parents were divorced, a novelty in my world then. It was very sad for me when summer came and she spent the entire vacation in California with her dad. But we wrote each other every week; I haunted the mailbox that summer. It was a happy, happy day when she came back to Utah for the school year.

Kim was more social than I ever was and easily made new friends in seventh grade. Again, I was popular enough; I could talk to just about anyone, but I wasn't tight friends with anyone else. Kim and I didn't have any classes together that year, but we did have lunch together and walked to and from school together. Things were pretty much the same between us, The Inseparables.

But at the end of seventh grade, tragedy struck: Kim was going to live with her dad permanently. I was heartbroken. We still wrote to each other pretty much every week, but there would be no reunion at the end of the summer. I remember the first day of eighth grade, when my Health teacher called roll; Kim's name was on the list (the teacher couldn't pronounce "Shakeri"). It was all I could do to keep from crying. No one knew a Kim Shakeri—except me. [That's Kim in her 8th grade year. This is how she looked about the time she moved away. Funny; for as much time as we spent together I couldn't find any pictures of the two of us together.]

My time after school quickly got filled up with dance lessons and piano lessons (I'd done both all along, but now I was advancing and spending more time at them). Soon I got my job at the dance studio; my after-school days were completely packed. Kim and I still wrote each other frequently. I don't know if she truly realizes how important she was to me, but I never had another friend like Kim until I met Bruce. (Except he and I didn't play Barbies, and we never had sleep-overs until we got married.)

Over the years Kim and I have kept in touch. Sometimes we've lost track of each other for a few years at a time, but then we find each other again. Now we email each other kind of sporadically (actually she's very prompt at writing; I'm the sporadic one). She's married and has two darling girls; she still has a wide circle of friends. I'm glad that I'm still part of that circle.

[Senior highschool pictures. Doesn't Kim look beautiful?]