Heidi (Underwood) Elkins
Jeff and I met when we were just seven years old, and I have nothing but joyful, carefree memories of our childhood together. We spent nearly all our time outside, in a world that existed before cell phones, iPads, or social media. Our days were filled with bike rides through the neighborhood, playing at the elementary school behind Jeff’s house, and long visits to our neighbor Frank’s back porch, where we’d feed the birds and listen to his stories. We climbed trees, invented games that made perfect sense only to us, and let our imaginations run wild.
One fun memory about Jeff is that somehow, without a cellphone, a watch, or even a reminder from an adult, Jeff always knew exactly when it was time to head home so he wouldn’t miss another episode of Mama’s Family. It was like an internal clock went off inside him the moment the show was about to start. I never quite saw the humor in it the way he did, but that didn’t matter. I can still close my eyes and see him sitting on the floor, right in front of the living room TV, completely locked in. Then, out of nowhere, he’d burst into laughter at something he thought was brilliantly funny. Even if I didn’t get the joke, his laughter always made me smile.
As we grew older, life pulled us in different directions, and I regret not staying as close in our adult years. But what I do have — and will always hold onto — are the cherished memories of our childhood. Those long summer days, the laughter, the adventures, the simple moments that seemed ordinary then but feel like treasures now. Jeff was a part of some of the best days of my life, and his friendship will always be a part of me.