My Best Friend

My best friend in the whole world is my cousin, Becky. Normally, I don't put my "peoples'" names on here like this, but tonight is a different story. Tonight, one of Becky's oldest friends hurt her feelings terribly. In fact, her feelings are hurt so badly that she deleted her Myspace account. Myspace was one of her most favorite pastimes, and though I haven't talked to her tonight personally, I know that she is devastated. Also, I know that sooner or later, she will read this blog; and I hope that when she does, she'll know how much I love her and how much she means to me.
The dictionary defines "best friend" as "the one who is closest to you." That sums it up, I guess. This is what my best friend is to me:
When I was growing up, we lived 100 miles apart. We saw each other about once every month or two. When we were together, we were sitting in her room, watching CMT (she had cable and we didn't so that was a treat for me) and playing board games. Or we were outside playing in the yard. We rode her Roller Racer around in the basement or in circles in the driveway. Our moms (they're sisters) would drag us to Martin's and the infamous Quintard Mall in Anniston for never ending shopping trips. We both hated those trips with a passion and would have never been able to survive them alone. Thank God we had each other. I remember when she got braces. I was so jealous; I wanted braces so badly that I would stretch my gum over my teeth and pretend they were my braces. It's OK - you can laugh at that. When she would come to visit me, she would call one of the guys in my neighborhood. She had a huge crush on him - everyone did. He had a crush on her too and he would break his neck to get to my house to see her. In true little-sister like fashion, I would not leave them alone for one minute. You can laugh at that too. Once, we were with her mom and were on our way to pick him up. I pointed out the wrong house and she in turn knocked on the wrong door asking for him. She was so mad at me! Once when I was visiting her, we planned to run away together. She's older than me, so I was just along for the ride. We were going to sneak out of the house that night after her parents were asleep and meet her boyfriend at the end of her road. While her parents were at work that day, we packed our bags, got our money together, and then we practiced sneaking out. We figured out which steps squeaked and where to step in order to avoid the squeaks. But we chickened out that night and didn't do it. Planning for it was way more fun than going thru with it would have been. And all of that happened before I was 13!
When I was 13, she got married and was expecting a baby. She had her first son fourteen years ago. The first time I got to hold him, I was so excited. I immediately fell in love with him. Then he puked on me and I dropped him. Luckily, my mother was standing guard over me the whole time and she caught him before anything tragic happened. Don't misunderstand. Something tragic did happen. I had a huge puke stain on my green silk shirt. It was a travesty as far as I was concerned. Shortly thereafter, she was divorced and moving to my town. Poor thing. She didn't know her way around town and I would have to go with her to buy the baby diapers so that she wouldn't get lost on her way home. Once, I lied to her and told her I knew how to drive so that she would let me drive her new car. I almost took out four mailboxes, two dogs, and one unsuspecting man taking a jog through the neighborhood.
She remarried and had two more kids. I graduated from high school and went away to college. When I came home, we worked together at the daycare. That has continued off and on for almost five years. During the past five years, our friendship has grown in unimaginable ways. She has listened to me whine and complain about being broke. She has laughed with me, and she has helped me chaperon lock-ins at church (something no adult willingly volunteers for). We have watched 1000s of movies together. We have endured family gatherings together. We have taken countless mini-road trips, and got lost only once. We have planned Vacation Bible School at church together for three years. We have laughed, we have cried, we have laughed until we cried. She has been there for me through every "guy" drama I have had, even through my "almost emails" and "almost voice mails." A couple of years ago, I thought my world was falling apart. There was one day in particular when I didn't want to get out of bed to face to day. I have never felt that way before. But I woke up thinking that if I could just go back to sleep, then all of this bad stuff would go away. Maybe if I went back to sleep, I would wake up and find this was all a bad dream. I didn't even have to tell her how I felt. She came in and sat down on the bed (I had spent the night at her house) and she said, "So here's the plan for today. You're going to get up and get dressed. You don't have to put on make-up. You just have to get up. I'll be right here with you for the whole day." And she was. The next day was even worse than the day before, if that was possible. I finally broke into a million pieces. I remember one of my friends telling me once that she had never felt her heart "breaking" until her dad had a heart attack and she didn't know if he was going to live. This was the day that I understood what she meant. That was the first time I felt my heart breaking. I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn't stand up anymore, and Becky is the one who caught me and held me. I was too heartbroken to pray and so she prayed for me too. As horrible as that moment was, it perfectly describes what kind of a friend she is. During the trying weeks that followed, she opened her home to me as my "place of refuge." (Little did I know that just a year later, I would be able to offer my home as a "refuge" for two close friends going through similar situations.) Thankfully, that horrible moment in my life only lasted for a few weeks. Since then, we continue to sit around and play cards, watch her kids play ball, drag her kids on those same shopping trips that we hated when we were their age, sing in the choir together at church, and try to sort out my guy-drama.
This past summer, we took the journey of a lifetime. It was a trip that I had been wanting to take since I was 14, and I could think of no one better to share it with than her. We drove across the country to Las Vegas. We were supposed to go to San Diego to help our friend move and then we were going to fly home. Through a very dramatic chain of events, we only made it as far as Vegas. I had a major freak-out moment while we were stranded on the side of I-40 in the middle of nowhere in Oklahoma. Becky pulled me together. We waited 30 minutes on a tow-truck. I have a picture of her sitting in the car, fixing her hair in the rear-view mirror while we waited. Typical Becky. Her hair is always perfect.
Becky knows exactly what I need to hear and when I need to hear it. When something is going on in my life, I rarely form my own complete opinion until I run that opinion by her first. Every time I get too "out there" with something, she reels me back in. She is my other half. We think the same thoughts, usually at the same time. I love her very much.
In conclusion, not only is Becky the friend that I had that opened her home to me when I felt I had no other place to go, she would open her home up like that to anyone she knows. She is a "giving" friend. The downfall with that is that there are some people who are "takers," and she has been taken tonight. I know that she is so upset by all that happened between her and her other friend, but I am hoping that when she reads this, she will realize that she is loved by her true friends. She is the one who taught me what a "true" friend is.