Last week, I found out that one of my friends from high school got engaged. I need to specify that she is not only a friend from high school, but a friend since kindergarten, and one that was a constant in my life through every up and down.Â
This friend, Brooke, was the emotionally mature friend I always went to when I had a bad day. She was my rock when my great grandmother died and the arms I fell into when my Mama passed.Â
She is not a friend that I feel like I have to constantly check in on to know I am loved by her. I just know that we are watching one another from the sidelines and cheering one another on in quiet ways.Â
Brooke is one of the kindest people I know from my early years of school and someone that I continue to tell my friends at college about. One of my favorite things about her that continues to stick in my life are the phrases she used to say. A phrase that I continue to use over text is “el o el” and whenever I call someone “lovey” or I receive it, I think of her. I use the phrase “I concur” as an affirmative agreement, something she “coined” during our junior year.
She was with me for my Confirmation during junior year of high school, and despite not being Catholic, she chose to be a part of my special day. She took a picture of me and my Mama that night that continues to be my favorite photo of us.Â
This past week, her grandfather passed away. Her grandpa was our bus driver when we were in elementary school, and he always was a part of my life from the time we were little until our senior year of high school; again, her family is so deeply a part of who I am.Â
Her grandpa was a staple of every family Halloween party she held and a constant at chorus concerts and musicals. He was lucky enough to see the joy she had after her engagement and see her ring in person.
Last week, her brother toured SBU, and I suddenly had the realization that her baby brother was no longer a baby and somehow, he too would be attending college in less than a year. I have watched him grow up from the time he was two years old, and it makes my heart ache to remember that I, too, am growing up.
When I saw that Brooke was engaged, my first reaction was not just to text to congratulate her. I wanted to mail her a letter in celebration, but I realized I didn’t have her address at school. I wanted her to know how joyful I was to know she was happy, so I settled on a text.Â
I wanted to give her a giant squeeze in pride and tell her fiancĂ© how lucky he was to know and love her forever. I wanted to hear all about the proposal. But I was at SBU, and she was not. I was with my people, and she was not a drive away anymore.Â
I wanted to cry, both because I was so proud and because she is still, in so many ways, little Brooke to me.Â
She is still the friend I made in kindergarten gym class and the pal I had when my friend’s mom babysat us. She’s still the girl who would comfort me when I was scared during sleepovers and ensure I would not get in trouble for watching PG-13 as a 10-year-old. She is forever my modified basketball partner and the reason why I had a two-month stint in gymnastics. So much of her is a part of who I am today.
She taught me to love myself for who I am. She gave me grace when I broke down and couldn’t handle my anxieties anymore. She reminded me that I deserved better than I was receiving in my friendships. She is always my Brooke.