Her husband introduced me to others attending their wedding as her "best" friend. I hadn't really had a "best" friend since Linda Mason.....that ended badly when we both dated the same boy. I had believed Linda when she said she wasn't in "love" with him anymore and didn't understand why she "hated my guts" when I went "out" with him....I think we were twelve at the time. I swore off being best friends with anyone else ever again ever. Just like I swore I'd never get married again.......
However....thirteen years ago today, as I was interviewing volunteers at the job I held then, I first met Denise. A glorious friendship grew that I know I could not have lived without. I treasure it every day. It doesn't matter whether Denise is my "best" friend or I am hers. It only matters that we are friends and that we remain friends. No matter how many miles separate us, no matter what paths our lives take. No matter what.
The journey of our friendship has helped us survive the deaths of our mothers, divorces, and the turbulence of raising independent children. We've shared the celebration of welcoming grandchildren and new husbands into our lives. We delighted in and agonized over our addiction to words. Spoken and unspoken. We "get" each other, and that's not an easy task.
I'm grateful that she left her house on a cold Syracuse morning thirteen years ago and that I was well enough to go to work that day so our journey could begin. And I'll see her again in 103 days...
February...such a long winter month here is snowy Syracuse...holds warmth for me: the anniversary of my friendship with Denise and tomorrow is my wedding anniversary (more about that in a future post)
Thanks, Denise, for always being there for me. Always. Happy Friday the 13th.
She is priceless