My name is Becky and I am a “Mainer” who lives in the Midwest. Last year I had the rare privilege of being reunited with a childhood friend from Maine who I hadn’t heard from in 40 years.

This chance reunion was like putting a puzzle together — everything had to fit just right to make it work. My friend, Denise Norweg, was working at a Maine bank when she got a chance call from a relative of mine, who had some business with the bank. When Denise recognized that my cousin and I had the same last name, Denise was eager to ask questions but, due to privacy issues related to the business, she couldn’t say anything.

My cousin immediately called me and told me what just happened. So I called the bank asking for their help in locating Denise, who lives in Auburn. I gave the man on the phone Denise’s name, and he told me it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

To my surprise, the phone rang a few hours later, and it was Denise! She said she was getting ready to go home from work in five minutes when she got the message that I was looking for her.

We talked for more than two hours, like we’d never been apart, and we arranged to meet in person last year. Renewing this friendship meant so much to me that I wanted to do the same thing for my brother, Brice Jepson, who had cancer. He had lost touch with his best friend, Stuart Allen, when we moved from Maine to Iowa when we were children.

I didn’t have a clue how to find Stuart. I didn’t even really know who he was!

I managed to track him down by writing to someone I remembered from our street who shared his last name. The man I wrote to turned out to be Stuart’s uncle, who wrote back to me with Stuart’s phone number and address. Stuart lives in Jay, and once I knew how to get hold of him we started communicating by e-mail, Facebook and on the phone. Once we were in touch, I realized that he didn’t live far from where we all grew up. And he even knew a lot of our family. In fact, a cousin of ours is a neighbor of his and I had visited there in the past, not knowing how close by Stuart was!

The Dream Foundation (an organization that grants wishes to terminally ill adults) granted Brice a wish to go to Maine to be reunited with Stuart, as well as our family, whom he hadn’t seen in several years. His wish was to go fishing with Stuart, just as they had done as kids.

I planned the trip around Maine’s free fishing weekend, but Stuart got Brice a two-week fishing license so he could not only fish with Stuart whenever he wanted to, but also fish with his nephews, Colby and Brian Jepson of Carthage.

Brice was a very giving person. He was the bone marrow donor for our brother Brian, who had aplastic anemia. While the transplant was a success, Brian suffered many infections and passed away in 2002 at age 38, just six months after we lost our mother to cancer.

He was always giving of himself. When Brice renewed his driver’s license, he became an organ donor. After he died, his eyes helped to give the gift of sight to two people.

Brice was a proud grandpa. His sixth grandchild was born while he was in Maine, and number seven was born the day after he returned home.

Brice lost his battle with cancer on July 2, 2010, only three weeks after returning from his trip. He was 48 years old.

Since Stuart couldn’t attend the funeral, he asked that the following letter be read at the service:

Stuart’s tribute to Brice,

July 7, 2010:

Most of you don’t know me, but my name is Stuart Allen. Brice and I were best friends growing up in Maine, but we were more like brothers with different parents.

Then, one day, when he was around 10 years old, he moved to Iowa. We kept in touch for a while, but then for some reason we lost contact.

I often thought of Brice and where he was and what he was doing. Then, last winter, I got a letter from Becky Werner and had no idea who this person was. My wife thought I met some girl online! After reading her letter, I found out that she was Brice’s sister and I was saddened by what his future had in store for him.

I was also flattered that one of his wishes was to spend time with me before his time was up. So I told Becky that if he could not come to me, then I would go to him.

The Dream Foundation granted his wish, and we finally got to meet in person in May. I hope his time in Maine helped to make his wish come true.

When Brice was here, he told me that his son, Justin, reminded him of me, and maybe that happened for a reason. On Friday, when I received a call from Justin, I knew that Brice was gone.

After talking with the boys, I feel more like an uncle than a friend. We hope to stay in touch.

They say that Brice is gone, but he will always be with me. He will be the eagle, flying over my boat when I’m fishing; or the snow falling on my tree stand while I’m hunting; or the wind blowing across my ice shack on the frozen lake. He will always be close by.

Goodbye my brother until we meet again.

Your friend always, Stuart Allen

As my experience with Denise and Brice’s experience with Stuart proves, a best friend is a priceless gift with which Brice and I both have been truly blessed. In the circle of life, good friends keep us grounded and connected in many different ways.

If you have a good friend, give them a call, or send them an e-mail.

Life is too short to wait.

Becky Werner lives in Kingsley, Iowa.