Thy Friend

“Go oft to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path.”

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

We met in high school. We'd known of each other for years. Our school was doing a production of "Fiddler on the Roof". I don't know how it happened, but suddenly we were always doing things together. Calling one another after school to plan something else to do together.

There was a core group of us. We did everything together -- movies, dinners, plays, grocery runs, choir. We were inseparable. But I trusted her more than anyone else. I could always count on the truth no matter what. 

I graduated and went to college the year before she did. I made new friends. We didn't see each other every day. It was harder to stay connected. 

The next year she followed me to college. She lived on campus. I lived off. I was a history major. She was a business major. We did some things together. I still called her my best friend, but it wasn't the same. 

I met my husband. He didn't like to share me, and I was a people pleaser. I hurt her. But she didn't abandon me. She embraced him even though he saw her as competition.

She helped me with wedding plans and gave me a bridal shower. She was my maid of honor. 

After that we kept in touch, but not the same way. We were there for all the big events. The birth of my daughter. I was in her wedding.  She and her husband helped care for my daughter while I was hospitalized before and after the birth of my son. I celebrated with her at the birth of her daughter. She had a miscarriage and I reached out. I needed her in my life, but I wasn't sure she wanted to be in my life in a deeper way. 

When her son was born, I was at the hospital while she was in labor. I asked if I could be in the delivery room and she was happy for me to stay even asking my opinion on the final name choice. 

We began truly reconnecting, though, when I began remembering the abuse I had suffered as a child. Ten years after the birth of my daughter. And I turned back to that friendship. I asked for her help because I couldn't think of anyone else I trusted enough. I knew I could say to her, "I can't clean my house, and I can't let anyone else see how bad it is." She came and asked questions and listened and never, ever judged me or doubted me. She became my family at that point. The one person I could call no matter what or when. She laughed with me as we realized my addiction to buying lotion and cleaning supplies. She told me what to get rid of when I became overwhelmed with stuff and crap. She counseled me and encouraged me and prayed with me and over me. She listened to all the awfulness and some how stayed and loved me anyway. She reminded me of who I was. 

And now. Now we see each other every week and talk or text almost everyday. I can't imagine my life without her. She is the sister God gave me, and I am blessed beyond all understanding by that gift. We help each other. We listen to whining and call each other on it when it's time to stop. We encourage each other to honor who we are, and to strive to be better at being us. And we laugh. 

There are no weeds on the path to her door anymore. The good news is that those weeds have been pulled and dug out. The path has been renewed.

(to LBB with so much love!)

linking up with Write on Edge