A Faraway Friend

I have many great friends who move in a dance of holding special places in my life and giving and taking. It's like a kaleidoscope of beautiful and completely different experiences. Sometimes everything goes right and builds something beautiful and... sometimes it goes badly and explodes to make a new design that eventually becomes beautiful again. I'm thankful for them all. The "true blues" that can make you brunch, drive you crazy, make you laugh til your stomach hurts worse than an ab workout, listen to the most mundane facts of your life, stare in stupefaction at you when you cry about being pregnant and carry you up out of the ravine like soldiers when you hit the bottom. I've found them everywhere and it wasn't by chance. It was by God's design. He gives us opportunities for relationships and we can grow them or not, which leads me to the the story of my faraway friend. When friends part, you know the routine. A tight hug, some wiped tears and you're off, staying in touch Facebook style and going on with life (Knelly being the one exception). When I had to leave Minnesota, Knelly was plugged in, checking on me, encouraging me and always cheering me on to be strong and not lose courage. Four years later, we still talk on the phone all of the time and get together every chance we get. It's a sad event to part with friends but this last time, I learned from my chum Knelly and through the generosity of my husband with time, I was able to go ahead and be that friend to the last curtain call. To help in any way I could and to give in whatever way was needed. What I learned was of course, that the reward was my own. I have more memories, a closer friend, lots of groceries (hahaha) and it was easier to let go. No missed chances or regrets, I listened when she needed a listener, commiserated when she struggled with hard choices and jumped at every chance to have some coffee, make margs, watch a terrible movie or let her wrestle for a chance to hold my baby.

We crammed some pretty hilarious times in to our short but freakin awesome 18 months of being neighbors. Heck, she even got me to go paint a picture... so WEIRD for me to even be writing that.

I had the difficult (gulp) honor of taking her family to their hotel beside the airport the night before their flight. I think I knew it was going to be hard but I couldn't have predicted the enormity of emotion and gravity in that experience. When we pulled up to their house, I saw her husband sitting on his front porch with his head in his hands, obviously praying that he had done the right thing (I believe he did but I suppose that's irrelevant). As we pulled out of their driveway I silently listened to her oldest son tell his house goodbye and then his neighborhood goodbye as we pulled onto the main road. Her little guy sat beside me and held a brave face as well. In two weeks they will be plunged into a school in another country surrounded by unrest and rumors of war. I really can't imagine how their little minds were whirling. From the other side of the car Bart said "now are you starting to feel a little sad E?" The car silently glided down the road in the dark and I had memories of going down that road with Bart so many times on our jaunts to Costco. We had spent the last year propping each other up for every trip like a couple of cripples because one of us never could motivate to go unless the other went. Can we say co-dependent? I feel like there should be canned laughter after every memory I relate about Bart because we are authentic with each other and it's slightly ridiculous. I'd been sad for weeks but all day long that last day of helping them get ready to leave I had run on adrenaline and now it came to a screeching halt and I just felt like an interloper. This family was launching on a new beginning beyond my comprehension and here I was invading a personal and very poignant moment. I chattered inanely about my very normal life to which the family offered occasional polite replies. We pulled into the 7-11 and her younger glanced at the tire air machine and said "feed the starving?!!! oh... the children... I thought it said chickens." We all laughed together with relief; we could really just think something was funny for a second. When we got to the hotel I snapped pictures of the cute little family and hugged my chum good bye. We cried and it felt like she was drowning in grief for the home she was letting go of and I could hear her heart breaking in her voice. I really wanted to give her something to hold on to, something she could hold that would help her on those hard days when she just wants to go home. I didn't have much but I gave it a shot. In not so many words, I told her we won't just be Facebook friends who rarely talk and always say we should. We'll take time for each other and when/if she comes back we'll pick up where we left off and stay tight. I gave her a real final hug and right before she walked through the door I told her I loved her and it seemed like my voice echoed. I know I was a poor substitute for the parents and siblings that should have been standing there with her right then but I did my best.

It seemed like one memory tumbled over another as I drove back home. I cried as I passed Costco (then laughed out loud at myself for crying about Costco), pulled into the neighborhood and remembered a hot day we went out geocaching with all of the kids, one of those fun when you're not having fun deals. I was driving the car that had been Barts transportation that fateful day Nick ran away on his strider and Bart bailed me out and found him for the police (although the newspaper had a different version).

Mostly just mundane simple little "funny to me" memories. Eh, it's just hard to part with a friend you have history with. Funny history, like watching the worst movie ever made together start to finish and then staring at each other scarred for life. It was a bittersweet drive home. At 1AM I went to bed but I knew she was in her hotel room rearranging her suitcases and discovering that all of her well intentioned friends had thrown some pretty important stuff away. LOL! One day, I can't remember exactly when or why, I told Bart that we were just baby friends and our friendship hadn't been tested. We laughed so hard about that and called each other our baby friends for awhile. About a year later she asked if we were still baby friends or had we graduated? I told her we might have made it to middle school since she had a friendship bracelet from me (courtesy of Eden) to which she replied with an "oooh, middle school is a tough time for friendships!" This blog is to record the milestone that Bart and I are now officially seasoned and solid friends. She's proven her mettle in tolerating a sometimes mean, mostly brash but always (except when pregnant) stable friend and she's proven herself to be irreplaceable in my life, she's a true blue but unfortunately very faraway friend.

Part of me was afraid to write this post because perhaps some of my other fantastic friends would feel slighted... then I thought of how ridiculous I am to assume I'm so important to people. LOL! Regardless, I have to stay true to my original intent in creating a blog, give people some laughs and give my kids a true account of their childhood and the lessons their mother learned in life.