My very best friend became engaged yesterday. Her husband-to-be is an incredibly romantic man who stole her away to Sea Island, Georgia and the infamous Cloister Hotel where he dropped down onto one knee and proposed. This is a man who insured that everything was perfect for the moment, even commanding just the right amount of breeze to cool the summer heat. Okay, so maybe he didn’t actually command the weather, but he did insure he had an incredibly beautiful day for them to remember. The experience which included champagne, a magnificent diamond ring, and the most poetic words of adoration one can imagine, was capped by an overnight stay in a very exclusive, very expensive ($2,000/night), four-room suite at the Cloisters. And, if anyone ever deserved such a beautiful, momentous moment, my best friend did.
I get to be a matron-of-honor! I am so happy for the two of them that I can hardly contain myself. Their journey to this moment is what inspires romance novels. It is a love story for the history books and if it is possible for any two people to love a lifetime in just a short time, these two people have. They are inspiring, overcoming monumental odds, and I’ve frequently pulled from their joy to give my characters their own joyous moments.
As I sit reflecting on them and their journey I can’t help but think about the road my friend and I have traveled together over the years. We met in elementary school, fourth grade. We’ve been best friends ever since. There is little that we have not shared. I am closer to her than I am to some of my blood relatives. She is the sister of my soul and I absolutely adore her. She knows my darkest secrets and I know hers. I have been a shoulder for her to cry on more times than either of us can count, and whenever I needed someone to help me get through a rough time she was there.
When my oldest son was diagnosed with cancer last year this time she called me every day to make sure we were all well. The front I had to keep up for my husband and family could come down with her. She allowed me my moments of weakness and I didn’t have to pretend to be strong. She was the first person I called when my son died this past November. I remember saying, “He’s gone” and she replied, “I’m on my way”. I swear she must have hijacked that airplane to get here when she did and she was right here by my side, holding my hand, through the worst of that experience. Family you would have expected to support me didn't even bother to come to the funeral.
I don't think there is anything she wouldn't do for me or me for her. I imagine that if I needed help with burying a body, she'd just bring the shovel and ask questions after the newly planted rose bushes had bloomed for the second time. I wish every woman in the world could be as blessed to have a best friend like I have. I am thankful everyday that she is mine.
I wish her and him a world of happiness and a lifetime of bliss. And, if she asks, I’ll even wear pink ruffles at her wedding. And only because she’s my best friend in the whole world and there's absolutely nothing that I wouldn't do for her.