In Memory

In a couple of days, it will be the birthday of one of my wonderful friends of bygone years. I have been thinking about her for the past few days, and I wanted to write down some memories.

I met Debbie Brimhall when I was about 10 years old and she moved into our small community in the Spanish Fork Canyon. I remember being a little intimidated and a teensy bit jealous - she was tall, thin, blonde, confident, and beautiful. She was the youngest in her family and had 2 glamorous teenage sisters still living at home. Her life seemed a little more interesting than that of the rest of us for some reason.

All of the teenagers who grew up in our area were close-knit, as there were only a few of us. We rode the bus to school together (suffering our driver's hated country music), we attended church and youth activities together, and we hung out together on the weekends. But I wasn't particularly close to Debbie until our senior year of high school. It was then that we bonded through long AP Biology study sessions, hung out with some mutual friends, and ended up going on a Church history tour together with a high school seminary group after graduation.

Debbie & I at Far West, Missouri

After high school, Debbie attended Ricks College in Idaho with a few of my other friends. I went straight to BYU (a whole other story). Our second year of college, Debbie moved back to Provo and we were roommates, in a tiny 2 bedroom BYU apartment a couple of blocks south of BYU. Two other friends that we grew up with, Sharman and Alyson, were also our roommates. It was an amazing year and a half! I loved becoming even closer to her, and getting to borrow her clothes was an added perk. She was fun, spiritual, loyal, and kind. She taught me a lot of things - one of those I remember is to tip your waiter or waitress! She was a waitress at Prestwich Farms and I heard many horror stories of the crazy work she had to do - plus, I knew she only made about $2.50 an hour without tips. She was a great waitress, so she usually made pretty good tips, but sometimes people were stingy or even didn't leave a tip at all. I think of Debbie every time I visit a restaurant.

Home from working as a waitress at Prestwich Farms, where she met her husband. 

 In the fall of '92 (oops, I'm going to age myself here), Debbie got engaged and prepared to get married in December, while I prepared to leave on my mission at the beginning of February. We were going our separate ways, but we supported each other and I remember a lot of late-night talks about life.

Debbie's wedding day at the Salt Lake City Temple.

 Over the years, Debbie had 2 children and moved to southern Utah and then back up north. We saw each other infrequently, at various occasions or for lunch once in awhile. She was always one of those friends that I never felt distanced from, though - you know, the ones you can go a couple of years without seeing, then when you see them, it is like only a couple of days have passed. I wish we had facebook back then - I'm sure we would have stayed more closely linked to each other's lives. 

I knew a little bit about some health problems Debbie was having, but not a lot. She was never one to complain or tell a lot of details about her pain and inconvenience (at least not to me). I believe she contracted giardia and then later, crohns, which is an auto-immune disease that effects the intestinal tract. Now, granted, I may be mistaken. I was not in close contact with Deb during this time, and I am relying on my old, faulty memory bank.

In 2006, Debbie's disease got a lot worse and she died from complications, leaving behind her husband, two young children, and a lot of family and friends. I remember vividly taking an afternoon off of work to attend her funeral. It was surreal and very, very sad. Years later, it still doesn't quite seem real. Someone I knew and loved for so long, who is a large part of my growing-up memories and only a couple of months older than me, is gone from this earth already. It reminds me that life is precious and we never really know how much time we have. I still think about Deb every once in awhile. I am grateful that she was part of my life.