Sarah's flight is probably preparing to take off as I write this.
As you may have guessed by the cheesy title, this post will take a turn for the sentimental. It may even become downright sappy. Don't say I didn't warn you. I've spent the past week with my best friend, a girl I've known since before I can remember. In our earlier years, our days were filled with office playdates (her mom worked at the church with my dad) and Thursday afternoon outings (our parents got so tired of our constant begging that they finally established a set day for Sarah to come over or for me to go to Sarah's; while that helped, I still remember asking my dad if Sarah could come over nearly everyday). We'd drink half of our Dunkin' Donuts chocolate milk (to the chagrin of my mother) and eat our donuts as we chatted away. Between the two of us, there was never a quiet moment. Ever. We'd run wild through the church building as our parents worked, getting into everything and having grand adventures. There is no one that I remember having so much fun with, except perhaps Tina (since we lived together).
Then one day, a car carried her away to Remsen, NY - a place about which I had never heard. Though we promised faithful correspondence, our barely passable writing skills never quite lived up. We were, after all, only in first grade. The summer after she moved (the summer after second grade), my parents agreed to detour to her farm on our traditional vacation to Kansas. I remember feeling something beyond excited. Despite our failed attempt to keep in touch, I had entered a story about her in my school writing contest. I hardly remember it now, though she swears its somewhere (I gave it to her on that trip). I wrote, illustrated, and published (sewed the binding on) this little story for which I was recognized in front of the entire elementary school I attended (it won 'Best Best Friends Story' - I was a good writer even then). We spent an afternoon together, but had to move on far too quickly. I remember flashes of that day, mostly memories jogged by a few photos we have.
After third grade, my family moved to Missouri. I was devastated to learn that, instead of visiting Sarah, we'd be spending a few days in New York City. Few girls are as disappointed as I at spending time in the Big Apple.
From there, we kept in touch spottily. A few letters here and there, an occasional phone call. Around seventh grade we became very faithful about our Saturday afternoon conversations. That was before texting and before everyone had internet. I'd count the minutes to when I knew she'd be available. We'd talk for an hour or so - until we got kicked off. Even in middle school - even now - there's always something to talk about.
The summer after eighth grade was the first time we saw each other face to face. She flew to Kansas City for a week. We were so excited. It was a very fun week but we didn't account for how much adjusting to each other we'd have to do. As a farm girl, she found it physically impossible to sleep past eight. As a city girl, I found it physically impossible to wake up before eight. She was (and still is) very extroverted. I am very introverted. Despite our differences, the week was practically unforgettable.
The next summer I flew to New York. I am not a farm girl - I learned that real quickly. But I got up before seven to milk cows - until I got horribly sick. The last few days I was there I caught some terrible virus that knocked me out for a while. But I did get out of chores.
The following summer, Sarah returned to Missouri. I could drive now, and we relished the thought of the keys and the open road.
Next year I found myself back on the farm, faithfully (and healthily) doing chores. We went to Water Safari that year, a water park that we drove through the Adirondacks (the mountain range she lives so close to) to find. We also visited her grandparents in Massachusetts and went to a family reunion in Connecticut. It was so much fun! I took pictures with "my" cows - the cow Sarah named after me and its babies - whom I got to name (Penelope and Sherlock, if you're wondering).
The next summer, we had graduated high school and Sarah flew to Missouri to celebrate. We had professional pictures done by a friend of mine, we drove to Kansas and stayed at my grandparents' for a few days (she met the whole fam), we drove to Joplin and I showed her my school and Precious Moments - it was a wonderful trip.
The next summer neither of us had time to travel - or money. Which brings us to this year. After two years apart, it was wonderful to be reunited. Honestly, it was a chill trip. We did some shopping, we did some henna, we went to Joplin and spent a morning volunteering. She got to meet some of my friends, we rode bikes and took walks and laid out, watched movies, cooked delicious food, and spend lots of time talking. All in all the trip was a smashing success.
The thing that I treasure most about Sarah is that I can tell her when I need space. We are nearly opposite in everything which makes us an odd pair to be so close. We've both said that if we hadn't grown up together, we would not be friends with each other. I'm way too type A, organized, and driven and she is way too relationally driven and extroverted. After a week together, we tend to get a little rough around the edges.
Perhaps that is why I always feel surprised at the profound sense of loss I feel as we arrive at the airport, check in, and one of us goes into security while the other watches - knowing that the amount of time between our next reunion is never set in stone. As I walked away from the gate this evening, I was moved nearly to tears as I reflected on our friendship. Sarah and I don't always see eye to eye. She drives me crazy sometimes. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love her more dearly than I could ever think possible. I treasure her so deeply that I know that our friendship could never really end. I don't know why God put us together, but He did and for that I am grateful. Sitting beside her, I almost lose track of where she ends and I begin. There are very few people who have an unlimited license to hug me but she is one of them.
Saying all of this, it dawns on me that it is almost like a romance or like being in love. While I can assure all of you that it is entirely platonic (we are both too boy crazy for our own good), she is one of the few people in the entire world that I am not sure that I could love a boy more than. I trust her with everything. Literally. I wish that I could be there when things are going badly, but I am relegated to being the friend on the phone. I wish we could celebrate the little victories, but I can only send my congratulations via technology. Still, I know that we have something special. We've been friends for twenty years - a bond not easily shaken. There may come a day where the chaotic push and pull of life forces us to fall out of touch but I have a strong conviction deep within me that even in that circumstance we won't stop loving each other, we won't stop thinking of each other, and we'll make it work. Because we always have. We are pros at the long-distance thing.
A few letters I dug up:
The summer after we graduated:
The summer of '08 (the last of the cow days):
