Memory Lane with some Ben & Jerry's

When I think about my childhood and especially, my teenage years, I tend to think of one person more than any other (besides members of my immediate family). That one person in particular is my best friend, Christine. So many of my absolute favorite memories include her. She was the one person who stayed completely consistent and loyal and true through those formative - even when I wasn't all of those things to her. Our friendship was one of those truly kismet things - at times it felt like an other-worldly, eternal-in-scope relationship. I've always had the feeling that we've known each other from before this life - that we have a deep, soul friendship.

Much of our teenage years were spent together. And when we weren't together we were together in spirit. She was the one I could talk to about anything - without the slightest hesitation or tendency to censor. She was the one I would philosophize with - we would talk about our thoughts on everything - from the nature of God, to music, to the value of the word "Dude" in the English language. (It is the most versatile word in existence, just for the record.) She was always the one I could turn to and confide in - no matter what I was going through, the good, the bad and the ugly. She was the one who lifted my burdens. She was the one who understood me - even (and maybe even especially) when I couldn't find the words to describe what I was going through. Sometimes all I had to do was look her in the eye and it was almost as if we were able to communicate telepathically - there were times when our best conversations were absolutely silent.

(Don't take that tone of expression with me!)

And yet, to balance out the deep, sacred nature of our connection, she was also the person I could laugh the hardest with - like, really laugh; laugh so hard that you are crying, so hard that you think you might pee your pants any second, so hard that your cheeks and your ribs and your abs ache.


She was always there. Always.

It was really tough when she graduated High School (she was a grade level ahead of me) and left for college. In Hawaii. And then later in Boston. But somehow we were able to stay connected. Somehow, our bond remained intact. Somehow, she was still always there.

What's funny is there were lots of times when she wasn't there. Times over the last 13 years when we have not seen or heard from each other in spans of months (and sometimes years) but we were always able to pick up where we left off.


A proverbial pause button just for our friendship, if you will.


I remember there was a time when she was going through some pretty difficult things in her life and we had reconnected after a few months of hit and miss communication and she marveled at how much the love contained in our friendship had sustained her; she said to me then: "I thank you for being a part of that love and such a part of my life. You are the kind of friend who I could probably go 5 years without seeing (heaven forbid!) and things would still be the same. It's because of the love. Isn't that awesome?"

And it is.

In addition to being one of the most influential people in my life, Christine is also a crazy-talented musician. She has a beautiful voice, impeccable timing, and seemingly effortless musicality. It's almost impossible to describe her stage presence - she's as electric and magnetic and charismatic as any performer you've seen.

Oh, and that applies to her trumpet playing too. She's incredibly talented. You can find out more about her music career at her website.

I've always loved her take on the no-beginning feel of our friendship: "I can't remember ever choosing you as a friend. Never said, "Yeah, that Mandi girl, I am going to give her a try." Never once questioned it in my mind. It just happened. As if we had no choice. Some friendships are like that and they remain constant no matter how long the periods of silence are, the periods where we don't talk or write "I love you." Because it's in those periods that we feel a special closeness with the other. A feeling of peace, that everything is ok. And it is."


We never really had to do anything together. You know,there are some friendships where you have to have some sort of activity to bring you together. Some big plans or diversion. Not Christine. Some of my favorite times were moments of just being in the same place at the same time - talking optional. We understood each other. With words and without words.


I remember a period where I was really struggling and going through a difficult time. I remember telling her how alone I felt, never afraid that she wouldn't understand. This is what she said: "Alone is a dark dark place. I want you to know that no matter how alone you feel, I am totally here - I feel connected to you more than anyone in the world - I know there are times you and I think about each other at the same moments because I can feel it. And it is so powerful. Keep on walking - but don't move the way fear makes you move."


I think my response then is more eloquent than I could try to paraphrase now, here's a portion: "Your message made me cry (even more) because as much as I know you love me, it was nice that in this particular moment, you said everything that I needed to hear in the ways that I needed to hear them - this is proof to me that we are connected on a much deeper level than I am even capable of comprehending. How wonderful and amazing! I felt so much love and you were able to validate every single difficult emotion that I was experiencing. (What a gift!) And really the core of my sadness is not the fear of being alone (because oftentimes that place of being alone is comfortable for me, making things much more simple), it's the feeling of being unsupported (which is just a different kind of alone). In my life the majority of the time I feel like nails or glue - like I provide a lot of support for the people who are in my life in a lot of different ways, but that I don't let myself be supported because I like to think of myself as someone who can handle hard things and that I am tough enough to be alone and deal with things on my own. And sometimes, allowing others to support me feels awkward. This is something that I am working on. Today, I felt supported and nurtured and cared for, and for that I wept joyfully while holding the pain - and that, my beautiful friend, is amazing. You bring joy and beauty into my life and I feel so lucky to be your friend. Thank you for your beautiful support and love and friendship. Thank you for listening and validating me in every way."


I am a big believer that this life is about relationships. It's about connecting. It's about learning and growing and changing - hopefully for the better. Yet it's all about our relationships - whether they are good or bad, healthy or unhealthy; we choose them and we choose them for a reason. We all get to choose what kind of relationships we create and what we choose to learn from each one. I've learned a lot from Christine. I've learned a lot about myself through her too.

Whenever I reminisce about times that we've had together, and even though we've had times when we weren't as close, or hung out as much, I always felt connected to her and mostly, I remember happy times...

...our adventurer year of girls' camp... my family had gone on a cross-country trip and I missed the big hike, and came a few days late. I remember being so excited to see her because it had been so long; Megan and I had the option of sleeping and then going, but I made sure that we left the minute we were all packed. Because we had gotten back from the trip really late (like 2am), Megan and I simply unpacked from the big trip, did laundry and promptly repacked for girls' camp while my dad slept for a while. The minute we'd finished packing, we woke dad up and left. And I remember when we got there, there was this totally cheesy but totally authentic moment of us literally running to each other from across the camp...

(Girl's camp with our tent-mates - clockwise from the left: Anjenelle, Me, Christine, Nicole, and Melissa.)

...countless times at church, during lessons (and even the occasional prayer) where one of us would do or whisper something to the other to make them laugh and then we would both nearly erupt with laughter after trying to hold it all in and the teacher would give us stern looks that would make us laugh even harder...

...skipping out on Carpe Diem parties or church dances to just hang out and talk...

...going on long, destination-less walks or just sitting together talking about things for which we had no capacity to comprehend, and thinking we were so deep...

...being able to look at each other and know what the other was thinking or feeling...

...ben and jerry's...

...riding together from seminary to school...

...and many other wonderful times when our souls connected and our bond grew deeper...


Christine, I am thankful for you and the light that you've brought to my life. This little walk down Memory Lane might seem totally random; but I have been able to think of little else today because it is Christine's birthday. She is never far from my thoughts on any given day, but on a day set aside to celebrate her birth, it would be impossible not to reflect on who she is and what she means to me. Even if we are currently in the throes of one of those more silent stretches of communication in our friendship. I hope we'll be able to deactivate that proverbial pause button sometime really soon and fill each other in on what we've missed.


I hope that you had a wonderful Birthday today. You were in my thoughts all day long and I was wishing you joy and happiness... as always.

You deserve everything that is wonderful and beautiful! Because that is what you are.

I love you.

And I am afraid that everything else that I have to say pales in importance, significance, and eloquence.