When my oldest son was in kindergarten he would come home, almost daily with Gabriel on his mind. His family lived in a castle house and apparently was the coolest kid ever. He was and is the definition of “best friend” material to any 5-year-old boy. Gabe was the coolest friend ever to my little five-year-old.
He wasn’t wrong. Gabe is a cool kid. He’s smart, funny and kind and well, good-looking and if it were my choice, he and my oldest daughter would marry. You know, in ten years.
They’re now 13. Almost 14. That means they’ve been friends for almost 9 years. The rule says if your friends for 8 years, you’ll be friends for life. I’m hoping that’s true because with Gabriel came Chase and Steve and Jill. And they’re my family too.
The first time Gabe’s mom, Jill and I hung out was over some Cricut cutting I believe. I want to say she’d
stupidly signed up for some school shenanigans and I had the Cricut to cut all the crap. Her two boys and mine played most of the night. Well past bedtime and we’ve been friends ever since.
She’s my best friend. And I don’t use that lightly. A long time ago someone told me that telling someone they’re your best puts pressure on them. But this isn’t a pressure thing. She’s the best. And she’s mine.
We’ve had a rough few years collectively. There has been an uncountable number of texts that have probably been backed in hidden tears. There has been the announcements of babies and nieces and nephews and raises but also lots of bad news too and never once has there been an ignored text or judgment or anything like that. It’s just been us. Together. Even with weeks of silence. When I got pregnant with my now three-year-old, Dixon, she was the first to throw me a shower. Knowing that I didn’t need or want one but knowing that at that very moment, I really needed someone to be happy for me and not upset I’d gotten pregnant “again” or that it was just another “boy”. And when I got home from that surprise shower and stared at the pile of diapers, I saw nothing but love. It was the first time I didn’t feel embarrassed for getting pregnant again. I am not sure she knows how much I appreciated it. I am not sure I ever thanked her enough.
This last spring she was the lucky recipient of my “worst text ever”. It was so bad I am almost positive she thought I was joking. It was bad. I couldn’t breathe and there was no reason to hide my tears. She showed up hours later with pizza and knew, I just needed her to look at me, right in the eye so that I knew I’d eventually be okay. It was the first breath I took since the text and made the seconds, the minutes, the hours easier. She and the friend who drove hundreds of miles are the reason I am still alive. That’s no lie.
As the bad news came and the temper and sad and emotions flared, she was there and then Steve was there. They were the first people I called when I thought I might need real, professional help and in the moment, she was the only person I wanted to sit by me (not touching of course) when I navigated my first adult call to the area police.
This may be the year I get that text. We’re not there yet. But I will be here, pizza in hand.
She’s my best friend. Davis found her for me.
Thank you, Davis. And Gabe. You found me my “other” family.
I’m lucky though. I have a handful of women in my life who I can call my closest friends. Friends I’ve had for what feels like an eternity and whom I’ve never actually touched but still are the threads of my heart. I have others who haven’t been there as long but who I knew wouldn’t judge my worst thoughts and laughed when I made collages of cartoon characters. I have friends who are low when I am low and high when I am high. Who helped me start my doula training. Who doesn’t tell me I am crazy when I am having the craziest thoughts. My friends who will load their children into their cars from forever away under the guise of a “vacation” but it’s really to keep me alive. I am so lucky. I will never ever be alone.
And thanks to Davis and Gabe? I have the recipe to find a very best friend.
Two really great kids (or four, but the mediums were forced into it ha ha ha)
I had to add this though. Davis and Gabe made a bet that if there Eagles made it to the Super Bowl, Davis would wear an Eagles jersey. AND THEY DID AND SO DID HE! We are raising them right.