Second Moms

We take a break from Twin Shenanigans to remember our dear friend Julie Hoyer, who suddenly and tragically passed this Saturday. Most of us during our formative years have the opportunity to be "adopted" by so-called Second Moms, whether they are aunts, grandmothers, big sisters, or in this case, a mother of a close friend. From the moment I started spending significant time at the Hoyer house, it was clear that Julie would be one of the many women in my life to fill that role for me.

Probably the first time I spent a lot of time out there was the summer James broke his leg, which I'm guessing must have been either '88 or '89. He wasn't going anywhere for a while that summer, so good friends that we were, we spent a good portion of our summer out there. The fact that James had Super Mario Brothers 3 to keep busy was pure coincidence, I assure you. I believe I made a good first impression that summer by consistently eating all of Julie's gummi bears or Gardetto's, a trend that would continue for many years.

We spent many a night out there through high school and college, playing cards, sitting in the breezeway playing Nintendo until God knows what time, cooking up something on the grill over a weekend, and just generally being noisy, obnoxious teenagers who thought they ran the place. But there always seemed to be some leftover Casey's pizza in the fridge, or another pile of gummi bears at her desk.

Julie used to take great fun in teasing me about being quiet most of the time, except when I had a couple of beers in me. When I was still living with James and first dating Jenn, Julie and Charlie would come down once in a while for an evening, and tell Jenn all kinds of embarrassing stories that were not true in any way, complete lies and slander. I can never remember a time when she didn't have her smile at the ready, or a cup of ice within reach.

The weather forecast tells me it will be bitter cold Wednesday, when we have Julie's memorial. It seems appropriate, since the world has lost some of it's warmth with her passing. She will be missed dearly, by many.