Just one?

Growing up I would always say, "But you can only have one best friend." I meant it. From an early age, I would only allow myself to have one best friend. And I made that clear to others. I would declare, "No, This is my best friend. You are not."

The word "best" denotes special, extraordinary, better. Most think of that in a singular form. One best friend. One.

What a fool. I'm talking about myself. Unless of course you hold the same notion. Foolish.

I went to college and the world changed. I changed. I brought along Amber. Well, not really brought along. But we were roommates for four years, yet we've known each other since sixth grade. Amber and I, attached at the hip for those first days at LaGrange, met some folks. It started on our hall, Hawkes 3. Our neighbors would be the first contacts; then quickly followed a curly haired girl down the hall. By the end of that year I was connected to Amber, the neighbors, a curly haired girl down the hall, a girl the floor below who loved turtles, another red head the floor above, and then another set of roommates who just happened to live in the next dorm over. Count it up, that makes nine.*

The next three years created a bond that has lasted. It has not been easy. We moved away. Some got married. Some didn't. Some are still in school. Some work 50 hour weeks. Different stages. Different steps. Different.

But there is a bond. I call these ladies my BFFs. And I mean it. Forever. Always. I know, I know. Sounds even more foolish to say forever than just having one best friend. But I have a feeling. It's okay; call me a fool. Even crazy.

I have some other BFFs. Good BFFs. One recently visited. I'm lucky. I might even call her my sister before my best friend. Her family is my family. My family is her family. Yep, we'll go with sister. And still there are more.

As you can see, I've been pondering this whole BFF thing for awhile. One person in particular has been on my mind. We've been friends since my birth. (Literally.) Our history is deep and wide. We fall a part from one another, but we always find the paths that lead back to the rhythms and patterns of friendship. We'll find our way back. I've got this thing called hope.

The moral of the story, don't be a fool. Have a whole gaggle of best friends. It makes life special, extraordinary, better. And tell'em if you have them. Tell'em you love them. And if you don't have them, well then, I will be praying for you.

Not just one,

BEAT

*There were a few that ebbed and flowed in and out of the circle, but they did not stick around. I mean it, they made the decision to quit us. We can be a hand full but well worth it. Something you want to hold on tight to and never let go. Promise.