Her name is Lillian,
though I know her as Lilly.
She is also Grace,
for she carries it in all she does.

Meeting her was as soft and tender
as the morning dew
quiet, calm, and so familiar
that it felt as though she had always been there,
waiting for me to awaken to her presence.

Perhaps I was always meant to meet her,
though not before I was ready.
The day our friendship took root
is one I will always hold dear.

She is one of the ribs
within the foundation of my chest,
a part of my memory,
a part of my heart,
and she will remain there
with every breath I take.