This post unabashedly brags about one of my nearest and dearest friends.
We met shortly after college graduation, nearly 9 years ago. Erin was the new Young Life intern in my hometown and was moving in with Natalie and Mike. Nat had me come over to clean this new girl's apartment in the attic of the Old Stone House and then one Sunday informed me that I was to be friends with the new girl until she learned her way around and, "made some real friends." Nat did not have high hopes for our friendship. To be honest, I didn't either.
Erin had gone to a private Christian high school in Virginia Beach, then to JMU. She knew several people I'd grown up with that had gone there. She was on YL staff (immediate distrust); she was conservative. The odds were against us.
But that summer I didn't have any girl friends around. She was it. And through the Venn diagram of boredom and approximation, we became friends. I remember driving around in my old 1987 Tempo (Shout out, Roy) with her that first Sunday thinking, "This girl isn't half bad!" We became speed dials; me because I was bored and Erin because she was disorganized.
Her 23rd birthday we threw her a surprise party at the Pizza Hut in Leesburg, then went bowling. There was a reason it was there, I just don't remember now.
Bowling after Pizza Hut. Grafton provides background.
When the doctors thought I had cancer, it was Erin who drove me to my appointment almost two hours away to get my bone scan. I didn't ask her to, but she insisted. When I think of an image of friendship, that is what I see.
When I was so frustrated at where I was, with how my life was looking, I'd constantly be surprised to look up and find Erin there with me. We lived our Stag 20s together. We did a lot of listening (she probably more than me). There were nights hiking through snow or watching DVDs of "Gilmore Girls". There was the random party after Chris & Rachel's wedding. There was the time Erin yelled, "GOD DAMMIT, SPOONER, I WROTE YOU A GOOD RECOMMENDATION SO YOU BETTER LIVE UP TO IT!" which may have been the first and only time I've ever heard those words come out of her Good Christian mouth. There were breakups and more than a few moments of self-shattering doubt. She was a wise voice of truth; I was the wild voice of cutting loose. She'd initiate the heart-to-heart; I'd bring over the wine.
A true sign of friendship is believing you've incredible luck. I feel like I'm cheating something to call her my friend.
Fall 2008 I met Erin for a 48-hour ridiculous adventure in Paris. It was the most geographically lost I've ever been, and yet I was never stressed or annoyed; I was with my friend. We still laugh about that trip. We provided each other with a face of familiarity.
And so it was only fitting that she's the one who told me Nat was dying; she's the one who called me when Nat had passed. She's the hand I held at Nat's memorial. She is my sister.
Natalie's death cemented something in us. I don't quite know how to explain it; she was the only friend in my life who knew Nat like I did, who understood why that woman was so vital and we spent more than a few hours on the phone in various states of grief. I don't think we're done with those calls just yet. I actually spent Christmas 2010 with Erin and her then boyfriend (now husband) Awesome Awesome Jon, and Erin and I stayed up incredibly late, talking through our grief under the glow of Christmas lights. Selfishly, being near her makes me a better person.
Awesome Awesome Jon and Erin graciously allowed me to fulfill my not-so-secret ambition and serve as a DJ for their wedding. It was nuptials for the ages. It is still discussed in those revered, hushed tones and I'm sad to say it's not because of my mad DJ skillz. It's because it was a ceremony full of wisdom and wonder, whimsy and life. They didn't shy away from the seriousness of the commitment but captured the joy of the moment. I cried. Often. I wish every wedding was like theirs.
And not just because of the most amazing balloon man EVER.
For New Years I went down to Jacksonville to visit Erin and Awesome Awesome Jon in their new home. It was such a relief to be around my friend who knows me well; who delves into the deep conversations as if they were held in the cups of coffee in our hands, who laughs easily and encourages humor without stressing it. I pray that Erin is a lifelong friend. I pray I'm the sort of friend who is worth it.
Erin and I will probably never live in the same city again; the seven hours apart we are now is the closest we will be in the foreseeable future. That feels so final. It physically hurts to realize I can't swing by her place when I've the best or worst news, even as we've not lived near each other in almost six years.
It's easy to not believe in God.
Easy to believe that chance, hormones and gravity are all that's at work in our lives.
But I find it hard to ignore when specific needs have been so meticulously met; when a friend I'd never choose becomes a friend I can't do without, when the voice most needed comes through a person unexpected.
And for that--and so many other things--I'm grateful.
