Hillary

Basically all my childhood, I had the same best friend. She wasn't fickle and catty like the other girls, and we had very few falling outs.  We grew up together, through the good and the terrible, so between being there for most of one anothers formative experiences, and discussing everything to death, we grew to where all we had to do was look at each other to know what the other was thinking.  We didn't need anyone else, and we never had to worry about what people thought of us; we had each other.  As girls often do, we said we would be friends forever, or at least if we weren't, we vowed never to drift apart.  If something should be big enough to separate us, it would end in a knock down drag out fight worthy of our friendship.

She was the maid of honor at my first wedding.  She made a beautiful speech and gave us meaningful gifts. I moved to Washington and never saw her again.  I tried a few times to reach out, but she didn't seem interested.  The last of these times was during the desperate darkness of my divorce.  We drifted apart.  Who can say why?  In the early years, I wanted to demand an explanation; the fight I was due.  If I had my guess, I'd say that maybe for some people there comes a point where there's too much between two people: when you know each other so well, and have journeyed together through so much, that the other person becomes like a mirror, of your wounds, your hidden weaknesses, all the pain and things you would rather put behind you....maybe you trade someone who understands you for a piece of freedom from your past.

Our lives are so different.  She is accomplished, unmarried, and atheist, and I live a life we made fun of in high school.  What kind of relationship could we have now anyway?  Neither of us are the type for BS or small talk, so nothing is better for both of us than something superficial.

My friend recently got in a car accident.  She is OK, but it really made me evaluate where we are, and I realized this: Through the years my love for her has become more Christ-like than any other in my life.  Over time, all the need drained out of me.  I don't need to be friends, to hang out.  I don't need for her to like me or validate me in any way, but I have never stopped wanting the best for her, never stopped praying for her (except during the times when I didn't pray at all), I would never turn my back on her in need, no matter time of day or season of life.  I realized that when you love someone it doesn't matter if you have different lives, or believe different things, or even ever speak again.  She is as much a part of me as that bicycle chained to the tree as it grew.

I have longed for someone who understands me the way she did, but that empty place is more than fair trade for the time we had, and  God gave me a different type of best friend in my husband; one who loves me so deeply that understanding isn't required.

Sometimes God forces us grow in ways that it takes a lot of distance to see the lesson, and sometimes I guess you have to loose the present, to find the gift.