...if she needed me tomorrow I'd drop everything and be at her side. I wouldn't hesitate for a nanosecond. That's how deep our bond ran.
Heavenly Father full of grace,
Bless my boyfriend's foxy face.
Bless his little nose and toes,
And keep him safe wherever he goes.
Bless his eyes that shine like stars,
And make him love me more than cars.
Bless his lips I love to quench,
Bless his tongue I love to French.
Bless his hair that always curls,
And keep him safe from other girls.
Bless his hands so big and strong,
But keep them Lord where they belong.
Lord give me strength and you know why.
Believe me Lord he isn't shy.
They call us the perfect pair,
He'll never know how much I care.
I love him Lord but please don't tell,
If Mom finds out she'll give us hell.
He has his faults and you know why
Bless him Lord cause he's my guy.
It's this corny prayer that brought us together in the first place. We were both 13. Which, looking back, was the beginning of so much for me. My family was moving out of the neighborhood I'd grown up in.
It was a modest neighborhood. Solid, middle class working families. Well kept, neat homes with a predominance of Italian blood running through them. My mother wanted more. Make no mistake about it. My mother was the driving force behind this upheaval of our lives.
The neighborhood we moved into was respite with large colonial style homes. A cookie cutter neighborhood. There were maybe four to five different styles of homes. But they all held the same message. Upper middle class. Something my mother loved. I could have cared less. I wanted to be in our old house, in my old room.
In my ever so humble opinion it was the single most influential move on the rest of all of our lives. And not necessarily in a good way. The first several years we all basked in our newfound role on the social ladder. Or at least my mother did. The rest of us began a journey through our own personal hell.
High school wasn't this wonderful, exuberant youthful time for me. I hated high school. Nothing short of divine intervention could get me to go back in time and spend a single day in high school again. Even then it would take some serious bribery.
There were a few things in that time period that I DO cherish however. "Nee" is one of them. From the moment she showed me the prayer we formed a friendship that I thought would stand the test of time. And it did for twenty three years. Renee was my best friend. She was the person I always went to when I needed someone. She was the first person I thought to share good news with. She knew, before my husband did, that I was pregnant. She was the maid of honor at my wedding and she is my third child's Godmother. She knew everything there was to know about me. The good and the bad.
Until four years ago. When somehow, and I'm still not 100% sure how, somehow it all came to a crashing end. I could say that we simply grew apart. And maybe in a way we did. Our lives were going in two different directions. Our families were different. It seemed we suddenly had very little in common.
I'm more inclined to believe that even the smallest of things can crack the foundation of even the best of friendships. A situation, that may not even be directly related to two people, can have far reaching effects on them. Consequences can result that no one ever saw coming.
If I could go back would I change anything? I believe, down to my very core, that regret is a useless emotion. A pound of it won't make an ounce of difference. You can't undo the past.
I firmly believe that every experience, good and bad, has made me who I am today. I'm not perfect. I still have a lot to learn. But I'm not without successes in life. They may not be the sorts of successes others brag about. But they're mine.
So no.. I don't think I would go back and do anything differently. But like I said... if she needed me tomorrow I'd drop everything and be at her side.
"People come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Embrace all equally."