My best friend is a super-hero, and here is why.
Mark Twain once said, “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”
For Regina, I surmise these two events occurred simultaneously on the day she was born in September of ‘79. I was born in late December of ’79, at which point Regina recruited me as her side-kick from my house three doors down.
Regina came into this world knowing exactly what she wanted to make of it; what her values were and how she would spend her life advocating, learning, sharing, empowering, and filling every waking moment with adventure, friendship, laughter, and service. For most, the innate knowing that Regina brought into her existence is only sometimes achieved in a lifetime twice as long as hers. In the 40 years as her sidekick, being a front seat passenger to her journey has been my greatest honor.
As she grew in her awareness of the immense responsibility one assumes as a superhero, she became known to many as “Gina”, and occasionally took measures to make her superpowers less obvious. While Regina drove a Prius, rather than a Batmobile, I can assure you that driving with her was a guaranteed harrowing experience. And when leaving the house to proceed on the newest adventure, you could be certain you’d spend at least another 3 minutes searching for something she has inevitably “lost”, like her keys, cell phone, or grocery list. Most remarkably, how many people can regularly sneeze 13 times in a row? Obviously a super-hero.
My best childhood memories notably include Regina, from evenings watching Lawrence Welk with John and Mona, serving as their audience while they practiced their impressive ballroom dancing skills, to accompanying her family on vacation to Glenwood Springs, hunting for crawdads in the stream next to our cabin, or wearing matching white and red polka dot clam diggers Mona made us while learning to ride my bike on the Highline Canal Trail at Eisenhower Park. I’m quite certain we set a record on South Dennison Court for the number of evenings we were home past our requested curfews, as we just couldn’t quite end our conversations once we’d arrived at the other’s front door, and thus proceeded walking back and forth until one of our parents beckoned us in.
Our childhood of bike rides along the red brick road, summer camp that Regina hosted for kids in the neighborhood, vacation bible school, lots of exciting new sibling announcements, sleep overs, and heartache when Regina announced her family was moving to a new house. I remember being concerned about how our friendship might fare with an unprecedented physical distance, wondering who would now play in her backyard tree house and walk me home in the dark at the end of a summer evening of “night games”. In true Regina form, our friendship never skipped a beat and evolved into an even greater commitment to sharing new adventures as our lives and interests grew.
As young girls, Regina and I would walk to the travel agency office in our neighborhood and from the brochures they offered for various enchanting locations, we would be inspired to plan our own. We would return to her basement, where John always had a computer and printer, and plan out our vacations. The sky was always the limit for Regina. Nothing to her was out of reach, improbable, or without reason to pursue. A few months ago, Regina sent me the itinerary that as 10 year old girls we meticulously researched for a trip to “Sunny San Francisco”, eliciting fond memories, and not missing the irony that we took that trip some 20 years later. In true Regina form, whatever she thought she could do, she did, and as her side-kick, I was often fortunate to accompany her.
From different middle schools, high schools, and colleges on opposite ends of the country, our connection never wavered, and I never had to worry about when I would see her again, because Regina always had a plan, and another adventure in the queue. Those adventures included evenings hanging out in Ft. Collins, salsa dancing in Puerto Rico, the most magnificent views of the night sky in a coastal hot tub in Southern California, a weekend retreat in Yakima to celebrate her pregnancy, and hours walking a deserted driftwood beach shoreline on Camano Island.
In the fall of 2018, Regina sent me a text message saying, “how about for your birthday present, I register you to run the Colfax Half Marathon with me?” My answer was an unequivocal “yes”, quickly followed by panic, realizing I’m not a runner. But then again, if Regina thought I could do it, I could and would. Another of Regina’s super powers: the belief that anything is possible, at any time. I never heard Regina doubt herself, anyone else, or let fear of failure hold her back. Of the many remarkable super-hero qualities she espoused during her Earthly experience, it is her courage, joie de vivre, and her relentless approach to living life without bounds, which I will carry forward, just as she would expect me to.
In her final correspondence to me, Regina noted that hers was a beautiful life, as has my life been as a result of her being in it. Unfortunately, all super heroes must eventually contend with a villain, as Regina found herself doing when in March, a virus rendered her mind and body powerless. Regina put on a brave and exhausting months-long battle, which resulted in her retiring her cape, and assuming her wings. I will find solace knowing that anytime I need her, I can shine my inner bat-signal to call for her aide, and she will be with me, as her eternal presence is now that of a guardian angel. Regina’s legacy and legend will live on with all of us, in our hearts, and memories, and may we never let Travis forget that his mom was a real-life super hero.
