Remembering

Three years ago, today, I lost my best friend.

I will never forget the phone call I got in the middle of the grocery store telling me she was dead. The entire world felt unreal, like a dream. I left my cart where it was and walked out to my car, sat and had no idea what to do next. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t yell. My emotions were frozen.

You see, this was my best friend for as long as I can remember. My middle school confidant. Sleepovers; giggling about boys and gossiping about school. The girl I went to when I ran away from home as a stupid kid. The one who worried for my safety. The girl who cried with me when her prom date stood her up while I offered to put on a dress and go with her myself. The woman whose boyfriend fell asleep in a movie during a double date and we looked at each other and laughed while he snored. The maid of honor at my wedding, the girl who stood beside me and held my bouquet as I put a ring on my husband’s finger. The woman who sat beside me at the baby shower for my first child.

She was dead. Suicide. The depression we had both talked about in our teens, related to each other in that suffering, took her away. I didn’t know how to grieve a loss so unexpected. A loss that could have been prevented. I blamed myself for not seeing. She had slowly become reclusive. She had pulled herself back from the people who cared about her.

I wish I hadn’t been so caught up in my own life. I wish we would have taken the Vegas trip we had talked about. I wish I had made a bigger effort to reach out to her as I moved around the country. The distance took its toll. Her depression took its toll. My depression took its toll.

She wanted more than what we had growing up, two poor girls with single moms who were doing their best to make ends meet. She wanted to travel. She wanted to see Ireland. She wanted to get married. She wanted to have children. She had hopes, dreams and goals.

It took a long time to get through the grief but three years later I can look back at the memories and smile at all the joy she brought to my life. The understanding. The importance of that friendship. I know she was in my life for a reason and I know I will be forever grateful for the time I had with her because, even though I was never able to tell her just how much, she got me through many hard times in my life and knowing I had her gave me strength. Knowing I have her memory will continue to give me strength.