Soon, my best friend and her husband are gonna get in the car and drive several states away and start looking to start new lives approximately seven hours driving from here. At least, I think she said seven. To be honest, I kind of stopped listening when she said she was going because I really don’t want to think about it. If I ignore it, that means it’s not happening, right?
{My avoidance techniques – they are not to be rivaled}
When I moved to Michigan, she was one of the first people I met. I remember calling her house for the first time. Her mother answered and said, “Sarah? I have a daughter named Sarah.” And in the years that followed, my family became her family, her family became my family – and the two of us? Like sisters.
And all these years later (I’m not doing the math for y’all, but it’s been a LONG LONG TIME), we’re still tight, we’re still close friends, and if she were to be somewhere else – if she weren’t here? There will be a hole here. Something will be missing for sure.
You know, that’s not to say that it’s been perfect over the years. We’ve both done stuff that has caused the other person to roll their eyes, or shake their head in befuddled confusion (And I’m not just talking about our hair and wardrobe throughout the 90’s – I’m talking real stuff, too). But… always, always, we manage to come out beyond that. There are things I could say that would mean nothing in the world to anyone – except her. And vice versa.
I was there within hours of her first daughter’s birth. Her kids call me Aunt Sarah. The thought of not being around to see Nutty Bar go on her first date, or to prom? It’s sad. But it’s not just the big things I know I’ll miss. I’ll miss our day trips to Ikea, I’ll miss how anytime we go anywhere in a car, she NEVER gets lost (unless I’m talking about something gross that distracts her – in which case, yeah, she might miss her exit – but that’s totally excusable, because HELLO? Distraction DOESN’T COUNT). I’ll miss lunches over baskets of chips and salsa. I will miss the two of us getting nasty when the stupid waitress doesn’t card us (surely she needs laser eye surgery because WE LOOK TOTALLY UNDER 21. Heh). I’ll miss walks around the lake (she won’t miss how halfway through I start talking about sandwiches). I miss having someone who knows my history – who feels joy when something awesome happens in my family, and sadness when things are amiss. She’s been my FAMILY for so long, even my grandparents have a pet name for her.
The economy in Michigan sucks.
It does. It sucks so hard.
I can’t fault the need to find a better way of life for herself, for her husband, for her family.
But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
A piece of my heart may be moving away. And I am not happy about it at all.
*Really. I counted.
Where You’ll Find Me