Saying Goodbye to a Friend

Readers of the Hernando Sun are no doubt familiar with the many and highly enlightened writings of Linda White-Francis. From her profiles of local luminaries like dollmaker Linda Valentino-Michel to her compelling articles about local nonprofits like the Sheriff’s Youth Ranch to her moving essays about families, pets, and matters of everyday life, rendered more beautifully and meaningfully through her poetic pen. Linda became—not only a talented and reliable correspondent for our county—but also a friend to so many readers, who responded to her friendly, familiar tone and flowing prose.

But to me, Linda White-Francis—a Spring Hill resident who passed away July 11, 2024—was my ‘bestie.’ My best friend for more than three decades, this magnificent woman reigned as a shining light in my life—always warm, always loving, always supportive. A friend through and through, always to be relied on for a warm word or a good laugh—an eternal angel on my shoulder, while also serving as my comedy partner and my sister from another mother.

I’ll never forget the day I met Linda, then the co-owner of an adorable little eatery, Jim and Linda’s Circus. As I munched away on some super yummy pizza and ice cream prepared by the smiling lady behind the counter, I happened to hear her mention that she, like myself, was a writer.

“A writer?” my voice and ears perked up in tandem. “So am I! I’m Megan!”
“I’m Linda!” she replied.

And with that, a friendship was born—along with a long and fruitful creative partnership. Linda wasn’t lyin’ when she said she was a writer—a correspondent for The Suncoast News and The West Pasco Press, she also wrote more than 200 articles for doll magazines, like Dolls and Doll Castle News, also for agricultural journals.

Soon we became co-authors; authoring the books “Must Love Chickens,” “Merry Christmas India Stone,” “The Ghost and Mrs. Dunn,” and “Tapestries.” We co-edited and published “The Ladies Sampler,” a magazine of women’s fiction and poetry, and hosted many book signings together. Linda was one of those overachieving peeps who could, not only write but paint and take photos—and do it all so well.

A visit to Linda’s house was, in many ways, like a trip to a museum. People paused to admire her paintings, her refinished furniture, her books, Yet then they would hear her wonderful laughter, her sly jokes, and her words of warm welcome. They would greet and pet her dogs, her cats, and her chickens. They would realize that they had found themselves, not in a museum, but at Linda’s house.

As our friendship grew, we became each other’s first call in times both good and bad. And not a single holiday came to pass that we didn’t share—whether at her family dinner table, where I always was made to feel welcome or at the Hernando Sun Christmas party. Our Christmas poems filled the Sun’s pages in holiday editions, and we filled each other’s coffers with gifts for the holidays.

The final Yuletide gift that I received from Linda White-Francis took the form of a teddy bear wearing a T-shirt that read Best Friends Forever. Again, she wasn’t lyin’. And while many adoring folks called Linda a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, co-worker and friend, only I had the honor of calling her Bestie.

Bestie, I love you more than words can say. And, although we both lived for the pen, words cannot describe the sense of incredible, indescribable loss that I feel. But just as you live on in your children, your grands, your pets, and your words and ideas live on through your books and columns, you live on in my heart. Always.

Best friends forever.