We all do it. We all compete with people in high school - sometimes very obviously and sometimes in ways that are completely unspoken, but we do it. We have people who we just cannot stand to see in the halls and especially outside them....and then we get out of high school. Life changes. Life gets real, and the world gets huge.
It has been my experience that, immediately upon entering the huge world, the first place we go to find haven is among those with whom we shared history....and probably way more than that. This has happened to me many times, but today it was addressed specifically. "I know we were not close in our younger years, so I may be an unlikely friend, at best, but know I care and pray for you often....". I was so struck by this. There were like 6 years where we were in competing cliques in junior high and high school, but after that, like I said, the rules changed.
My life has been extremely challenging, but so has this person's. We have had little face to face contact, but social networking and the blog world have left us at least partially informed as to the goings on in each others' lives, and let me tell you. This has not been the white picket fence life for this kid. I have watched from afar as her family grew at nearly exactly the same rate as mine did. I watched her grow into her personality and character and achieve dreams that she must have had for a long time. Then I watched life hit her in the face in a way that seems totally unfair - a little one with a very rare, chronic illness. In the time since the diagnosis, she has remained publicly positive and, I assume, privately honest even having the courage to share publicly some of the nitty gritty of her feelings. Not easy stuff. Uncharted waters amid which there is not a ton of camaraderie or support. Despite that, she's still praying for me and apparently feels some regret for crap we did to each other from high school. I would like to address these things right now. I would like to share the things that this person has actually added to my life.
So lady, here goes.
The first major thing I remember about us being adults is when I was about to get married. Though I was not a virgin, my experience in the world of sex was unhealthy at best. You must have known or been able to see that I was scared, so you sat me down and reassured me and explained to me things that you were suspicious that I didn't know. You were correct. You also gave me the prettiest little something to pack in my bag for my honeymoon. It was the prettiest one I received. I could tell you spent time picking it out, and it made me feel special that you did that.
You got pregnant just a few months before I did with our first children. We were in the first time moms club together. I was glad you were blazing the trail for me, and I felt a tiny bond that we were sharing the experience at the relatively same time.
My nephew was born early and had a few complications that worried our family. You were working in the NICU with him. When I remembered that you were there, I felt peace. I knew that he would be loved on and taken care of. I remember telling my family that you were there, so they should feel less worried.
You grew into someone that loved her husband and her children and other people. That is huge for me. Watching someone become a balanced follower in our faith is a hard thing to do given some of the rules that were drilled into our heads our entire growing up life. You figured it out - at least in part. Thanks for that. You probably don't realize what a safe place you have become for people that are still doing the figuring out.
My third baby was my chunkiest at birth, but things went a LOT wrong with her. Despite the fact that I did, in fact, know how to nurse and take care of a newborn, something did go terribly wrong. My chunky baby had turned skeletal, I was horrified and felt really unsure of what to do. You sent me a private message telling me to follow my mommy gut and just have her weighed. This was on a Monday, and she had an appointment on Friday, but you persisted that no one would think ill of me for wanting to make sure she was healthy. The weigh in revealed that she had dropped a third of her body weight. She was the medical mystery of "failure to thrive". She spent the next week in the hospital being poked and prodded and evaluated and scanned. On our first night in the hospital, the head peds physician came in to see her. He stood over her bassinet with a very defeated expression on his face. I said to him "She looks pretty bad, doesn't she?" expecting him to be doctor-diplomatic with me and say something ambiguously positive like "Hey, we're going to do everything we can" or "We are not done investigating ways to help this little gal", but he didn't. He shook his head and let out a giant sigh and said "Yeah." and then turned and left the room. She was in bad shape. It took a LOT of work and an extremely dedicated team to get her stable. Well after we were past this horrible time, her nurse told me that, when they cathed her, no liquid came out....not a drop. Had I waited until our Friday appointment - had you NOT SPOKEN UP, I would have woken up to a dead baby laying beside me. I would not have my Sal gal. Did you know you were the only person that suggested to me to just take her in and have her weighed? Did you know that you were the only person who told me ANYTHING?
I could stop there. That one thing is good enough for me for the rest of my life, but that's not all I've got.
My life got real hairy after that. My marriage went down the toilet and so did my health, but around that same time is when you received you little one's diagnosis. You have spent this time with a hopeful smile on your face when you could manage it and a persistently positive outlook. You have not abandoned your faith in times when I'm sure you felt you'd lost it. You have not stopped loving your family or those around you. I have watched you turn trips to out of town hospitals for exploratory procedures into adventures for your kids. Let me tell you - they were adventures for the rest of us too. You made lemonade from lemons, and boy was it sweet to savor. You took the recipe of your life (see bloggy title) and you made it something that ADDED to everyone's experience here. You have taught us lessons and given us encouragement.
With all that going on, my dear, you have also taken time to find me. You have bothered to care and pray.....for me. You will not know for a long time maybe what the effects of that have been, but every time you have come to me and offered love, it has given me strength. It has replenished some of what was so depleted. That's just me. Don't you know that there are others? So so many others. You are magic, dear girl.
So thanks for high school. Thanks for what are now really funny memories of our cliques spying on each other and making fun of stupid things that wouldn't matter later. Thank you for sharing with me our funny history. Thank you for choosing to include me in the group of people in your life that you deem as friends. It is my honor. "Unlikely at best". No maam. Beauty. It is beauty to get to be counted as your friend. The promises of friendship and prayer and solidarity go both ways. Know that my turn will come to be support for you - a friend for you. I will gladly snatch that up at any moment's notice.
Let's continue this. Let's continue to share with each other these stories. Let's grow together in the quirky way we have found to be effective for the lives we have individually. Let's grow in beauty. Let's......be friends.
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