La, a friend to follow close! (If anyone gets that alliteration they get extra points!)

When you make a promise in third grade that you will be best friends forever, and that you will be each other’s maid of honor no matter what, as you grow up, you start thinking that promise will hardly stick, even if you did pinky swear. But with some friendships it sticks. They, being the friendships, stick, and those are the ones that keep you going in life.

They said it best and she quoted it even better when she was my maid of honor in June 2009, and she said, “You have so many relationships in this life, but only one or two will last.” Ah, yes, we live and love Hanson. That band represents our BFF-hood in so many ways.
But let’s go back to the beginning. I don’t even remember our first play date. I know we met in third grade. We both went to a Catholic school to get the education we deserved but neither of us were true “Catholics.” I think the first day we knew we were friends for real was on a “dress down” day (aka no uniform) when we both ended up wearing the same colors in a slightly different way on “Mismatch Day.” I was wearing a pink t-shirt and red shorts and she was wearing a red t-shirt and pink shorts or some kind of strange combination of the violently bright, opposing colors. Everyone said all day that we had to have planned it, otherwise how could we have ended up like that? But we didn’t plan it, not even remotely. That was the beauty of it, the beauty of us.

We nicknamed each other at some point. Being a wordy, spelling freak from the beginning I noticed how her mom shortened her name on her lunch box and in notes but she did it “grammatically incorrect” (according to me!) We laughed about how nicknames were always the beginning of names instead of the end of names. Therefore, she became “La” and I became “Ison.” We still sign cards to each other that way.

Play dates were always a challenge for us. I lived a half an hour away and it was a pain for her parents to transport. Mine didn’t mind but it definitely took a lot of planning. Now that I look back I’m pretty sure our mothers had distaste for each other. La’s mom was an awesome woman who didn’t take crap from anyone. Mine was a loud, in your face, erratic control freak that made things her way or the high way. Regardless, every time we got together to play we had some serious adventures.

We made music videos, we listened to Hanson, and made posters for them. We played with toys, played outdoors, made up silly little inside jokes that were just ours. I think we each admired what the other had. My house was packed with new toys that I didn’t have to share. La’s house was filled with toys that she had to share with dozens because her parents owned and ran a daycare out of their place. My house was quiet, hers was very much not. But I loved her house! She had junk food I didn’t even know existed! She had white bread (which I ate whole loaves of I swear) which had no nuts in it and even the crust was delicious. She had a super Nintendo and great games and a million activities to do all around her. La even lived by my play date “rules:” Since it was my house and my toys, we got to do what I wanted to do and at her house, since I was the guest, we got to do what I wanted to do. How can you pass up a friend like that!

After all these years and all the shit we’ve been through, these are the things that made us the friends that we are. So, however, is all the bullshit. Right between ages 12 and 15 we both lost our mothers. La, in a completely and far more tragic way. When I lost mine it was more mental and spiritual, and La’s mother left the earthly world.

Just like I will never forget the day my dad changed my life with the news of my mother’s lies and problems, I will never forget the day I found out La’s mom passed away. I was home sick and the high school principal called. My dad was vacuuming and I thought I was somehow in trouble for having too many sick days. My dad didn’t even hear me when I said that it was the principle and answered “who is this?” to the person on the other line. I stood there watching and my dad’s face turned to despair and he said “oh my, no. Okay, we’ll take care of it.”
He told me La’s parents were in a terrible car accident, her dad was badly injured and her amazing mother hadn’t made it. I cried and instantly just needed to be with La. She looked so tired when we got to her, like she could never sleep again. Her little brother just looked numb and shocked, not knowing what to think. Random family members I’d never even heard of were everywhere suggesting things and telling us what to do. One thing was for sure: these kids needed sleep.

Somehow my dad and I ended up taking La to the doctor. He asked her a bunch of ridiculous questions about her health history and why she needed help sleeping, why she was anxious, what was going on. It was then my dad pulled the doctor aside and verbally assaulted his stupidity saying something to the effect of, “This poor child just lost her mother and her dad is in the hospital. She doesn’t need to be harassed and asked all these stupid questions, she needs to sleep so let’s get her something so she can do that, OKAY!?”

My only method of consoling her in the weeks after was to make sure she had Hanson’s new release because to us, Hanson healed everything. The girls at school rallied to pray for her and I remember thinking, she doesn’t need prayers or fake friends, she needs to just not be alone and have someone just be there with her. Everyone went on “help La” patrol and it seriously annoyed me. She just needed to find her way…and she did, she has. La’s too amazing of a woman to stay down even when life kicks the shit out of you.

During all of this my mom was in an out, all over the place and I couldn’t even tell La what was really happening. It was “the family’s business” only and we couldn’t hurt the family name by advertising my mother’s bad decisions and mistakes. But every once in awhile we could just look at each other and know that there was some kind of secret level of understanding between us. We were always comfortable with each other, never judged each other or became mean, catty, or critical. We never even really fought.

High school was bad enough. Add in the mama drama and it just became ridiculous. We both got robbed of our teen-hood in different ways. I had to be an adult and let nothing bother me, act as though my life was regular and perfect. La had to grow up, move on and go back to life as if it was the same as before, and it wasn’t. I can’t even imagine everything she went through and we didn’t talk about it too much. We didn’t have to talk to know what was going on sometimes. Our friends wanted me to “save her,” but she didn’t need saving. She needed to just “be.”

We grew, operated with different friends, slightly different groups but always had each other. About a year after losing her mother, I had the chance to reclaim mine. My mother had gotten her life together enough to where I could try and have a mother again. But I couldn’t leave unless La said it was okay. I wouldn’t leave her. I would die for and kill for that girl. I couldn’t walk away without her blessing.

She said that I needed to give it a chance and gave me the peace of mind I needed. After moving and then being gone for six months, as soon as I came back home to visit our “friends” told me La was up to no good, running with bad people and missing school. I wasn’t her babysitter or her keeper. I saw La, we spent a couple days together and she was trying to find her way. It was then, when I was 16 that I told her everything about my mother; the cold hard truth. As I sat there and told her and we cried, I think she felt some kind of relief.

It helped us both to know that our relationships with our mothers were entirely fucked up and we weren’t alone, we had each other to confide in. Since that night when we were 16 and 17, we have been able to go months without speaking but never lose touch. We have those epic two hour phone dates where we laugh and just tell each other everything, and make fun of everyone else.

We had one of those conversations about a month ago, and it’s funny after all these years what we still have in common. La has grown to get married, have three amazing, beautiful girls who know me as their aunt, and get separated from her man all in just a decade. I’ve been through bad boyfriends, bad jobs, breakups and crazy choices to get married to a good man that’s staying around so far. I was maid of honor at her wedding and almost told her hubby that if he ever hurt her I would kill him, with all seriousness, but I changed my mind and let them just be. Now that I look back I totally should have scared him straight. La was my maid of honor and she stood by me.

At both of our weddings we were missing one thing, and we both desperately just wanted to get through our big day without thinking about it. Of course that’s never how it goes. La looked amazing on her wedding day. It was so great. We had a blast, until halfway through the party someone dropped the “mom” bomb and she lost it. She just didn’t want anyone to bring it up. And I knew it. I got her away from everyone and we got some air. She said what we were all thinking, “It’s not like I don’t know that she’s not here EVERY day I just didn’t want anyone to say anything about her!” My heart wrenched for La and I wanted to go after the heartless bitch that brought it up and then her dad said something to effect of, “Hun, people just don’t know what to say, what to do, or how to act about it so they say stupid things.”

At my wedding no one said anything. I had everyone surrounding me in the dressing room and I felt so good and beautiful with my Grandma Mary’s jewelry on, a ring from my fiancé’s grandmother on and a gorgeous dress. I stared at myself in the mirror and looked at La, my friend Else, my stepmom, and my boss, Tess and I just lost it. My mother was 3000 miles away. Her entire family was there and she just wasn’t. And she didn’t care, and I really wished she was there. It was then my aunt and stand-in mother Nancy said to me, “But would it really be good if she were here?” La was there and she just held me. I knew everyone was right and then I went on to have an amazing wedding, just like La did a few years earlier.

La says she missed out on her early 20’s reckless phase, which she did. I missed out on my late teens dating and ditsy phase. The thing is, we don’t sit and wallow. Neither La nor I regret things and say, “oh I wish that…,” “I should have…” We just, are!

When we spoke a month ago we were both seemingly at an amazing crossroads. We’d moved mountains to take a risk some thought was crazy. We’d each rallied the support of all of our loved ones, especially those who doubted us and took a leap. And we sat there on the phone with each other, just reveling in the fact that we were victims of our own choices; victims of our circumstances.

Okay, so we didn’t live the Romy and Michelle movie life that I’d planned for us, but much like the friendship of “Thelma and Louise,” a movie I love so much, we have definitely held each other’s hands while driving off proverbial cliffs now and then. I think the most beautiful thing about La and Ison is that we have never judged one another. We've just listened and we are there throughout the choices, good or bad, no matter what. We don’t live in regret, we live and learn.

So here we sit, 1000 miles away from each other in, yet another, similar circumstance: we are twenty-somethings stuck in a kind of limbo, lying in the bed we worked so hard to make. And after all these years, knowing that La is on the receiving end of the phone and that we are not alone, we have each other, just makes these life phases even easier to go through.

I don’t know what I would do without her. She is my greatest blessing. We have no secrets, we tell no lies, we can finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s minds and we can certainly sing every single Hanson song backwards and forwards. Ours is a love and friendship that is hard to find. In a world where friendship is a click away and your net worth as a friend is measured in numbers and page views, it’s good to know that some friends are the ones to follow close, the ones that really will drive off that cliff with you when it all goes down. So, as we get closer to nearly two decades of amazing friendship, La is a friend to follow close! And close, I intend to keep her…with love “atways,” (it’s a La and Ison thing!).