Friends 'Til The End: The 3 Things You Can Always Count On

My daughter, Casey, is winding down the last few, lazy days of summer with her best friend Aliy. I can tell they’re really close because I’ve only heard from Casey when she decides to call me, which has happened just one time; all of the other times, I have called her. Yes, I fear I am becoming THAT mother.

Watching Casey and Aliy and their relationship reminds me of one I shared with my best friend, Marjorie Crouch, though she was a Crisp when I met her. We shared a lot, she and I, going from elementary to middle and part of high school together. That was in the 70’s, practically the dark ages, according to my kids. Here are three things I learned I could always count on my bestie for.. then and now.

THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

You know, I’m not even sure how Margie and I first met; it just seems like she’s been a part of my life forever. But I clearly remember this, the first day of high school. Going to a brand new school in Yuba City, California, it was going to be a chance for us to meet new friends. I was scared and excited; did I mention scared? I thought for weeks about my outfit, right down to the flower in my Afro. But for as good as I felt there was that nagging insecurity that comes with being a teenager. Margie banished that feeling right away. Upon seeing me in my cotton brown suit, she squealed with delight. She always knew just what to say to make me feel better. Still does..

TO KEEP A SECRET

Margie and I shared, not only a bunk but a secret at Woodleaf, the camp we all went to in the 6th grade. It involves this picture but even with that clue, I’m not sure she’ll remember. I remember because it was huge, something that worried me a lot and there was no one else I could share it with. Giving it to Margie was like whispering it into a safe to be locked away. She never uttered a word of it and now, since I doubt she remembers, the secret remains just that.

I wonder if she remembers the hot song that year…..

STRENGTH

My family moved away from Yuba City and from Marjorie, halfway through my freshman year. When my father told us we were moving I cried for what seemed like days. Didn’t he know he couldn’t split us up? Margie and I were both sad but we drew strength from one another. And you know something? Moving 60 miles away couldn’t break us up.

30-plus years haven’t either. Even thought we don’t get a chance to speak as frequently as we used to, we’re still close and I count her as one of my bestest friends in the whole world. A friendship forged over classes, camp, boys and Jethro Tull is not one that fades away. Ever.

Love you, Margie!