You grow up best friends for life because your moms are. You don’t even remember when you met, because she’s just been a fabric of your life for as long as you can remember. You are “Best Friends”. And proudly disclaim that any chance you get. We were in separable, Janie (not her real name) and I. We rode bikes and took walks; we had sleep-overs and Halloween parties. You’d still come back even though I’d kick you out of my bed! We giggled and laughed at our developing bodies and our quirky habits. You played with your eyelashes, I played with my hair. Our moms got together, so we would. We lived just a couple miles away, in those days easily and safely walkable.
Then my parents took an opportunity to improve our lives---they thought—when we moved to New Mexico . I was so shattered. My world was coming to an end. You and your mom threw a huge party for me. We stayed up all night. We promised to write—and did, for a while. I was gone for two years, living in New Mexico . My experiences jolted me into a harsh reality: as whites in a predominately Hispanic/Native community, we were the minority. My brother and I had a police escort to school often. I’d get personal obscene phone calls. Someone held my mom hostage at knife point for a day. They broke into our house, letting my bird go and thrashing my room. They killed our dog a different day, leaving her in the street for us to find. I came back for a visit in the middle of this, and already I could tell things were different. I didn’t know the code and the jokes. But I wrote. A phone call was way too expensive.
And after two long years, we finally moved back. On my birthday, traveling across the southwest in the snow... I was thrilled to regain my “normal” life and see all my real friends. When I got home, I called right away I thought we could just reconnect and get back to the way things were. I didn’t really realize you just kept putting me off. One Saturday, I thought I’d make cookies. Our house, which had been my grandmother’s, was just down the back of the hill from yours. So I invited you over. You said you couldn’t go cuz your dad was flying his plane and you had to sit by the CB to check in as he passed over. What the heck did I know? Sounded good. Till I called our other friend Lily (not her real name either). She at least was honest. She said “no thanks, Janie and I are going shopping.” When I asked if I could tag along she just said, “Not really, we’d already made these plans.”
At 14, I was devastated. I cried for days. Part of that devastation was not having that anchor friendship to get me through. We’d had each other to beat bashfulness. Now I was alone and didn’t understand the kids I grew up with. For two years I was adrift. Until one day, being lonely and miserable without a best girlfriend, I came home crying. My mother asked what was wrong. I told her I didn’t have any friends and hated being back. So she asked what I did. I showed her I walked through the halls behind my books, head down. She gave me the best advice ever. She said, “from now on keep your head up, look people in the eye and smile. Say hello first. And see what happens.” I looked up. I smiled. I found new friends. I’ve been close to many women through the years and enjoy their company. I have dedicated my life to work that empowers women. But in all these years, I’ve never had a best friend again.
No comments:
Post a Comment