Melinda Moo

Twelve years ago, I asked my friend Melinda what she wanted to do for her birthday.  She didn’t hesitate before saying, “I want to hike to the wind caves.”  Obviously.

Melinda grew up across the street from my family.  To say she is one of my best friends doesn’t quite do the relationship justice – she is absolutely one of the family (nobody would disagree).

So we hiked the wind caves.  We left at about 8:00 in the morning with our lunches packed and water bottles filled.  When we returned that evening, our bottles were empty, our faces were burned, and our clothes were filthy… markers of a successful trip. 

This might seem like any other springtime hike unless I mention that Melinda has cerebral palsy and uses crutches to walk.  There were sections of the hike where we had to belly crawl up and over large rocks and carefully maneuver around steep  patches where the spring runoff had eroded the trail.  Our clothes were severely torn, and many of Melinda’s toenails fell off during the following days. 

Why would she do that?  Because she’s Melinda, and when Melinda decides she wants to do something, there is no stopping her.

A couple years previously, she decided she wanted to hike to Hidden Falls in the Tetons.  So we did, with my little brother Lance in tow, amidst a torrential downpour.  We laughed the whole way and had the time of our lives.  I’m pretty sure all we ate were bowls of captain crunch, tuna fish sandwiches, and an assortment of Frito Lay products (courtesy of our not-exactly-legal dumpster diving activities on the way to Jackson) for three days straight.

I’ve been on so many camping trips with Melinda it would be impossible to count.  She is always up for an adventure, and refuses to let her disability prevent her from living life to the fullest.

Aside from having an awesome sense of humor and being willing to sleep under the stars on a slab of sandstone, Melinda is probably the most compassionate person I know.  If you’ve ever been to a funeral with her, you know she doesn’t let anybody grieve alone.  When a former beau and I decided to call off our engagement, she sobbed with me on her front porch and went on many walks with me so I could talk out my anguish. 

When I had my baby in Utah six weeks early, she brought over about a thousand darling outfits and hair ornaments, as well as a case of formula and a huge pack of diapers.

She is a true friend, and I hope she chooses to be buried next to the Dickeys in Millville cemetery someday (at least 60 years from now). 

In the meantime, happy birthday, dear friend!  I love you forever and ever and ever.

(Melinda’s birthday is actually tomorrow…)