First, you’ll have to forgive me. I’m coming off the emotional rollercoaster of a two-day reflecting class so I’m a bit raw and am now suffering from what the instructor called a “vulnerability hangover.” The whole thing has left me a bit sappy and… well, reflective, which I guess was the point.
In the class we were tasked with listing three people who helped shape us into the person we are today. We were given plenty of time – and space – to think about our answers before writing them down. I wandered to a table far away from my classmates, where I could be alone with my thoughts. I listed my parents in slot number one – a tie. Number two, a no-brainer – my husband, for better or for worse. The third slot stared back at me from the page. I pondered my other family members, my past teachers, mentors, and coaches (all solid choices) – but there was one name that rose to the surface. My childhood friend, and friend to this day, “Red.”
I jotted down her name without further hesitation and my pen flew across the paper as I listed all my reasons. I smiled as I recalled her showing up to my house in her leather jacket, black, faux leather boots, and all that gorgeous red hair – and my dad’s hesitation to let us hang out together because anyone could see we were trouble as a pair. But Red taught me to embrace my carefree side and to let go and have some fun (but not TOO much fun, I still had my parents in slot number one, keeping me grounded…no pun intended).
Through the years, Red showed me how to be a better person. Time and time again I’ve witnessed her selflessly give of her time to help people. She is the sort of person who brings you hand-picked flowers if she knows you’re down, or readily volunteers to help in the kitchen if she’s over for a dinner party. If ever I break down crying in front of her, she can’t help but cry too. For birthdays, while I’m running to an ATM to pull out cash to give as a present, Red’s carefully shopping for that perfect gift. Her thoughtfulness comes naturally to her, while for me, it’s something I must often make a conscious effort at.
I pressed my fingers to my lips to stifle a laugh as I remembered how she taught me the value of the dollar. As teens, we would scrounge for loose change under floorboards and couch cushions until we came up with the 99 cents required to buy a small Wendy’s Frosty to share. I recalled all the times we put our last two bucks in the gas tank so we could make it to the mall and back.
While sitting in class and playing back years of memories with Red, tears crept to my eyes as I thought about the tragedy and loss she’s dealt with in her lifetime. I won’t elaborate, her experiences aren’t mine to share, but I’ve always admired how she smiled through her pain and was never bitter. Never unkind. She quietly weathered the storm and only leaned on others for support if we flat out forced her to – yet, when any of her friends or family are hurting, Red is the first to offer a shoulder to cry on.
So, “Red,” if you’re reading this: I want you to know that I love you, and you inspire me. You are beautiful, witty, wonderfully sarcastic, and fun. You’ve made me more adventurous, more thoughtful (or, at least I try), and you’ve taught me to be happy and smile despite what life throws my way. You’ve taught me the true meaning of friendship.