The day started out as any other day.
I woke up, got ready for work, and shook some sillies out with my preschool class.
It did not stay that way for long.
Sometime after 9:00 a.m., Bekah came over from the kindergarten room to bring me some terrible news.
Amy was in an accident on the way to work.
Amy, for those of you who don't know, is my bestest best friend.
We are two peas in a pod.
Peanut butter and jelly.
C-3PO and R2-D2.
Frodo and Sam-wise.
Joey and Chandler.
Waldorf and Statler.
Friend isn't even enough of a word to describe our relationship.
I'm pretty sure I went deaf for a few moments after hearing the news.
It wasn't what Bekah said that frightened me.
Accidents are just that.
Amy had been in accidents before.
Shoot, I had been in an accident with Amy before.
It was the way Bekah said it.
There wasn't harshness or severity in her tone.
There wasn't moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
There were just facts...and facts are the scariest part.
And the facts we had were limited.
She hit a tree.
The car was totaled.
She was pretty banged up, but she was alive.
In her dimly lit hospital room, Amy, the oldest in our group, looked like a child.
Her wiry curls, normally kept in a ponytail because, yes, they are that crazy, engulfed the pillow in a sea of raven waves.
Her neck encased in a brace so ridiculously large it would have made Queen Elizabeth 1 jealous.
She wasn't wearing her glasses.
They were flung from her face during the impact.
She was pretty loopy from all the meds and exhausted from the day's events.
The doctors said she had to stay the night for observation but would, hopefully, she'd be home the next evening.
Amy did not get to come home the next evening.
Or the evening after that.
She didn't get to come home for three days.
I won't go into all the details about what happened or what was broken.
To be quite honest, I'm not even sure what the final diagnoses wound up being.
The bruises and scratches and fractures don't matter.
Wheelchairs. Walkers. Surgeries. Leg braces. Neck braces. Dry shampoo.
None of that matters.
The only thing that matters is Amy's life.
Amy, who in our entire friendship, has never not stood by me.
Amy, who always tells it like it is - most of the time, lovingly; sometimes, not so much.
Amy, who would give you the shirt off her back, probably after scolding you for being foolish enough to not have a proper shirt in the first place.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Today I woke up, got ready for work and those same silly preschoolers are now in 3rd grade.
Once again, I am their teacher.
While they sit at there desks and work on math and history, I sit at mine and let my mind drift back to that day six years ago when I nearly lost my best friend.
Not a day goes by that I am not 100% grateful that Amy is in my life.
I thank God that he brought her into our group 14 years ago.
I thank God for sparing her life.
In doing so, mine was spared, as well.
We lost Uncle Bill unexpectedly in 2006.
Grandma followed in 2007.
If I had lost Amy in 2010...well, I can't even imagine the mess I would have become.
I read this quote once, and I think it perfectly sums up what happened when Amy and I first met: