Old Friend

I have many friends.  People I consider true friends.  I don't see them as often as I like.  We try and make plans and our lives get in the way.  I have new friends.  I have friends that I am friends with because we had children at the same time.  Friends that I am friends with despite the fact that I have kids and they don't.  Friends from camp.  Friends from grade school.  Friends from the neighborhood.  Friends from High School.  Friends from work.  And so on...

I have a few very dear "Old Friends".  One of these old friends spent the day in the hospital the other day as her mom underwent surgery.  She sent us constant updates.  I've known her since I was 3.  She is no longer in the friend category.  When you reach the 30 year mark in a friendship it is a new category altogether.

I have another old friend that she herself spent time in the hospital recently.  I was desperate for her to recover, which she did.  And I haven't seen her since.  Luckily she knows I love her and isn't judging me.


I have one friend that I have known my entire life.  I was born in July and she was born in August.  Our mothers were friends.  And we were from day one.  From the church nursery, to preschool, girl scouts, grade school, high school football games, college parties, weddings, babies, (she drove me to the hospital for my first child), funerals, and everything in between.

We don't talk every day.  We don't have to.  We never hold a grudge or have expectations.
We talked today.  She was offering my advice on something she has some expertise.  We got onto other topics.  She mentioned that it has been 30 years since her grandmother died.   30 years.  We were 7.  I remember her grandmother.  I remember her at their house.  But mostly I remember her sitting in the church pew in the hallway, waiting for the car to be brought around to pick her up.  I remember her being a tiny lady who was severely hunched over.

I don't remember the day she died.  I don't remember hearing the news.  I don't remember the drive to the church for her funeral.  Or what I wore.

I remember standing next to my old friend.  And holding her hand.  I remember that somehow we thought it was a good idea to leave the sanctuary where everyone was and head to the parlor, where her grandmothers body was.  We walked in that room, hand in hand.  Her casket was in the back of the room, open.  I remember walking to the edge.  And looking at her.
It was that moment that my old friend fainted.  I don't remember what happened next.  But somehow two little 7 year old girls made it to the bathroom, where she threw up.  I remember standing outside the stall door asking if she was ok.
I don't remember anything else.  Not the funeral itself.  Not leaving the bathroom.  Nothing.  As we reminisced today we both shared our memories of that moment.  I was surprised how they were so similar.  
I have memories of us as friends ling before that moment.  But this one is of of my favorites.  How lucky I am to have these memories of my best friend then, who is still my cherished friend today.