The post where "BFF" is fitting if the term didn't make me want to throw up

My husband and I had dinner with my best friend last weekend (the one who is a frequent participant in my imaginary conversations). She was down from Seattle to attend her niece’s graduation. I don’t see my friend all that often anymore. But when I do see her, it’s like no time has passed at all. We fall into easy conversation. And each time I see her, I remember why I adore her so much.

We grew up about a ½ mile from each other. We met at the ripe old age of 9. I don’t remember too many details of our relationship in those early years, but some details stand out. Her authentic bowl haircut and her need for a bra (I seem to recall the age of 9 or 10 her chest was already bigger than mine is now). When her dog Mickey died. The boy we both liked – her “going out” with him first, then me, then everyone else in our class.

We went on to the same junior high and high school. Had many of our “firsts” within a very short time of each other. She was the kind of friend who you could have deep conversations with(deciphering the lyrics of that Cure or Depeche Mode song is heavy stuff), and cry with but she also the kind of friend who you often laugh with so hard that your tummy hurt (listening to "Blister in the Sun" for the first time is a moment that comes readily to mind). She was often the life of the party, the social butterfly. A sharp contrast to my reserved, introverted demeanor.

There were periods of time during our college years where we seemed to grow apart. We ran in different circles – different majors, different groups of friends (her with the nature-loving science “geeks” (I mean that in the most endearing way) and me with the money hungry business majors (not so endearing)). There were times I mourned the fact that I didn’t seem to fit into her world. Times that I thought I should just quit trying to keep our friendship together when I didn’t feel any effort was being made on her part. But finally, I came to the realization that I treasured her so much in my life that I was just going to be happy with the times I did get to spend with her. Oh, and trying not to take things so damn personally (major weakness of mine) helped too.

That was a good move. We grew closer again as she moved on to veterinarian school and I to law school. The challenges and intensity of our respective programs gave us some additional common ground. She was my maid of honor at my wedding. And although she lived nearly 300 miles away in Seattle, she threw me a baby shower when I was pregnant with my son.

Every time I see her, I admire who she has become even more than I already did. Her passion for her work. Her zest for the outdoors. Her spontaneity. Her energy. Her quirky tastes in music, movies, and books. Her focus on doing anything she can to help the people she loves. Her willingness to drop everything to drive down to Portland whenever her family needs her.

I don’t think of her as just my oldest and dearest friend, she is truly a part of my family. She is the sister I never had (without the sibling rivalry).

I so wish we lived closer. I’d have a running buddy. I’d get to play auntie to all the children she will one day have.

I love you, Deb.