Growing up, we had some great neighbors up the road on the corner farm. A great Catholic family with six kids, three boys and three girls. All of them worked on the dairy farm until they left home. As kids we played baseball in their side yard and when you walked into the house, the smell was heavenly. Mrs. Epley was always cooking something delicious. It was either dinner for the farm crew at noon or supper for the large family that stretched around the big kitchen table. She loved to cook and loved the fellowship even more. She also had a cool cuckoo clock on the wall that I was fascinated with and would sit and wait to see the birds come out at the top of the hour.

Mr. Epley and my dad were best friends, borrowing each other’s farm equipment, helping with a broken bailer, and peeling potatoes for the local American Legion Fish Fry held on Friday nights before the home basketball games. The kids grew up, moved out on their own and when Mrs. Epley passed, you could often find Mr. Epley at our dinner table in need of human connection and friendship. He was a lovely old farmer whom my dad nicknamed ‘Sweet ol’ Bob.’

Years have passed since the Epley family left the corner farm but recently we reconnected with a couple of the kids at the yard sale we held after our mom passed. They stopped in wanting to visit and see how the family was faring. It was a sweet time of reminiscing, catching up and group selfies.

The oldest Epley daughter, Judy Recker – fondly known in the community as ‘JR’ – stopped in several times when mom’s health was failing bringing us cookies, brownies and taking a lot of mom’s ‘stuff’ that could be used by local missions. We were excited to read she was honored for her years of service at Fowlerville High School by having the FHS Track and Field complex named after her. It was long overdue as she fought so hard in the 1970s for girls’ athletics in Fowlerville. We marveled at a time when girls had no organized sports and how hard our fathers fought for uniforms for the girls when they served on the school board together.

Today I received a handwritten note from JR on FHS letterhead. She wanted to provide an update on a dairy farm in DeMotte, Ind., that is owned by a Fowlerville alum. She went on to give me the rundown of the events at the Fowlerville Fair and how the weather impacted each grandstand event.

I loved reading that handwritten note from my former gym teacher and track coach. That blue ink on white paper sealed a deep family friendship that deserves more time, effort, and respect than a text or social media post. The years between us are plenty, but the bond we share through the friendship of our parents is deep, enduring, and will last forever.