Last night I received a wonderful surprise. I could have done a happy dance, but my bad knee wasn’t having it. The surprise was a phone call from my long-time best friend, Loretta. We are septuagenarians now, but we’ve known each other since we were young teenagers. Yeah, that long ago.
We have the same first name, although she nicknamed me Retsie when we were in high school. Nevertheless, we called each other Sis back then, and still do. In our yesteryears, I knew her family members, and she knew mine. We have shared memories from our high school years, like the time when she and I got called to the principal’s office for circulating a petition demanding that students be allowed to wear sneakers to school (or tennis shoes as they were frequently called back then). That’s right, as shy as I was, that was my initial baby step toward social activism.
Loretta and I had a third “sister” in our clique while in high school, Valerie. I knew Valerie years before I met Loretta. Our friendship went back to grade school. It was through Valerie that I met another life-long friend, Phillip. Phil, as we call him, was a real-life friend before he became one of my Facebook friends.
Sadly, Valerie died in 2004. Anyone who has lost a close friend will know what I mean when I say it is like losing a family member. Over time, our losses may get easier. We learn to live with them, but the space a dear person held in our heart remains forever vacant.
After graduating from high school, time, distance, and life-stage transitions separated our trio, but Loretta, Valeria, and I remained in touch through phone calls and Christmas cards. On at least one or two occasions, I babysat Loretta’s children before having children of my own.
Valerie and I lost contact for a few years but reconnected in 2001. During that time, she persuaded me to attend our 35th high school reunion. I was happy that we spent that time together. Sadly, Valerie died of breast cancer the week before Christmas, 2004.
The last time that Loretta and I saw each other was at Valerie’s funeral. We vowed then to maintain closer contact, but our life journeys intervened again. About ten years ago, I misplaced Loretta’s phone number and lost touch with her. Still, I thought of her often and prayed that she was well and that we would reconnect.
When cell phones became popular, I wasn’t one of those people who gave up my landline and I kept the same number for over 40 years. Fortunately, Loretta, kept that number, too, and the answer to my prayer came when she called me last night. Reunited, we reminisced, laughed, and carried on like high schoolers. We also plan to get together in the near future.
Anyone who has a lifelong best friend understands the joy of growing together over the years with someone who knows you almost as well as you know yourself. What beats having a close friend who knows your early history? High School. Dating and boyfriends. Marriages. Children. Divorces. Some friendships are short-lived; others last a lifetime. But, there is nothing like having a lifelong best friend and confidant with whom you can have candid conversations and who knows your thoughts on most issues even before you express them. A friend who understands your moods, who shares your low spells and the high points. A friend who knows your flaws and accepts your imperfections without being judgmental. A friend who, after a disagreement, has no problem saying, “I’m sorry” or “I was wrong.” A friend who moves on without carrying grudges. I have and have had friends like that.
Unfortunately, like most people my age, I mourn the loss of many dear friends – male and female – who have preceded me in death, and I appreciate every day that I can spend time with those friends who are still around.
As author Edna Buchanon says, “Friends are the family we choose for ourselves.”
