The disbelief and snickers grew to tear-inducing, sides-aching laughter as the phone was passed around the room. As each of us spoke into the phone, the tinny sounds coming from the earpiece grew louder and more distinct for those listening in. It was starting to dawn on her, but she wasn't going to give in without a hilarious fight.

She thought we were all in on a joke of epic proportions. We'd gotten together for a party and hadn't invited her. Something, anything other than the reality that she had forgotten to come back to campus.

Absolutely forgotten.

After speaking to each of us and letting us tease her for a few moments - frankly, we each felt we'd earned the right to do so - she got off the phone so she could throw together some items for the first week of classes and get someone to drive her back. Immediately.

She'd just been relaxing at home and watching some Martha Stewart.

That was how Lexi was. She found misadventures - and if she didn't, they found her. Which gave her the opportunity to laugh with a booming voice that turned into a cackle when you really got her going.

For a few years, I had a hard time thinking of the memories, just because they made me fast-forward to this date.

It's been five years.

Today, I realize that I don't hurt when I think of her anymore. I'm back to being able to think of her life without those memories being laced so tightly to her death. I'm not sure when the process adapted to allow that, but I'm thankful that it did. I miss her, of course, but it's different now.

I just wish more of you could have been able to know her and be in on the stories.

Because the day she forgot to come back to school? That was pretty damn hilarious.