Tuesday, June 28, 2016

for Freckles

This is not enough, but it will have to do somehow. My first roommate and bestie, the reason I hesitate to say any friend is "like a sister to me" (few friendships are as complex as sisterhood is) is turning 50 today, and after a month of humming and hawing and "shoot we should have planned something," this is what she gets. 

Freckles and I shared a room from when I was born until we were 12 and 14. I'm sure she must have hated it more than I did. I don't remember hating it. I remember being purposefully annoying (as little sisters are), and being relieved she was there when I was frightened (which was often, especially when night terrors came), and laughing hilariously at very stupid things. And her feeble attempts to uproot me from the top bunk when I just wouldn't shut up. 

I also remember being lost when she suddenly left at 14 to go live with our aunt and uncle in Bel Air. Okay, it wasn't Bel Air, but c'mon ... I was sad and confused and lonely - and jealous that she got to leave the going-nowhere town I despised. I can only imagine how she felt. 

Freckles was also the person, when she came back home 2 years later, who introduced me to Motown and Michael Jackson. R&B and Soul are still my two favourite kinds of music, thanks to her. If she hadn't been so world-wise lord knows what awful music I'd claim as my own. 

Freckles and I are about as alike as we look. She's petite and brunette and, well, freckled. HA. I was 18 months and she was 3 when I surpassed her in height, but she's always been able to whip me back in line. She's also introverted and plain speaking to my extroverted circumlocution. If I had a dollar for every time she quietly poked and I loud-mouthedly reacted and got in trouble, well, maybe she'd be getting more than a blog post for her birthday. She makes me laugh like crazy - which is generally a good thing, but less so in church. Sigh. 

I sometimes don't ask Freckles for advice on things as I know she'll be honest with me and I know I don't want the honest answer. But when I do want the truth, no matter how sharp an edge it may have on it, I know she'll give it with the best intentions for me and deep insight into who I really am. When I was in Jamaica, very drunk on rum punch and sobbing alone in my hotel room on my first weekend excursion, it was Freckles who knew best what I needed to hear. I forgot (ignored) what she said for a while since coming home, but it was/is powerful and keeps me facing forward. Sometimes - like last week - her truth comes straight out of nowhere and hits a mark I didn't know what even up. She believes in me in a way I have never been able to believe in myself. Sometimes someone else's belief is enough, at least to get you started.

Freckles, I wish I was with you today, laughing too loudly and embarrassing you with garish celebrations. Better yet, I wish we were off somewhere exotic drinking out of pineapples and toasting your golden birthday. But I'm here and you're there and once more the thought will have to count. 

I love you. 
Mexico 2013, in which I learn that sometimes it is better to travel with someone else. :) 

1 comment:

  1. What a lovely lovely tribute to your bestie! My sissy is also my bestie though, I'm the oldest and she is younger. But sometimes, ok most times, she acts like she is the older one. Thanks for sharing!


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