Opposite Attraction

Friends come into our lives in such random, unexpected ways. For me, at the age of five, I never thought I would become best friends with the neighbor who lived across the street. When we first met I knew we could not possibly have anything in common. She wore a crisp pinafore over her pale blue dress and white ruffled anklets with her shiny black patent leather shoes, a bow in her hair, brushed back into a long, bouncy pony tail. I, on the other hand, in the backyard playing in the sandbox, wore nothing but shorts and T-shirt, bare feet covered with mud, freckled face smudged with dirt, hair cut short to keep it out of my face. As this neighbor's older sister introduced her to me I was already dismissing her in my young mind, thinking to myself that this prissy girl could not know how to have real fun, not seeming to be the type to get her hands dirty, to climb skyward into trees, to swing a bat, or catch fireflies. She was the youngest of three girls in her family, I was the fifth of six children, and just a year and two years younger than my two brothers. I was a tomboy by default. I remember thinking that I would like to push her down to see if she would cry. The meeting was brief and I went back to my play. The next time we met she came dressed to play, still a bit prissy, but not so intimidatingly girly. To my surprise we actually had fun together. Our friendship grew over time and we became inseperable, playing every day after school and on weekends. At my house, brimming with kids, there was excitement and chaos, rough and tumble play, messiness and noise. At her house there was privacy and a quiet atmosphere that I came to love as we played with dolls and games, a doting second mother who always seemed to have fresh cookies in the oven, and best of all, no brothers teasing and taunting. We each brought to our friendship what the other lacked. With our brown hair, blue eyes, and left-handedness, we sometimes dressed alike and thought it was funny when people mistook us for twins. She had a tandem bicycle that we rode together all over town, although she would always lift her feet from the pedals when a dog would come chasing and barking, leaving me to pedal furiously to get away without falling over. I had home-built go-carts and motorized bicycles to challenge her bravery as we flew around the oval track that my brothers and their friends had created in a field. During the summertime we spent our days together taking horseback riding lessons, gymnastics, and other activities through the Girls Club. We pretended to be spies while sneaking into neighbors' garages and yards, snooping on the mean old man around the corner, sure that he had something to hide. With a lunch bag in hand, we would crawl into the fire escape tube at the Junior High, climb to the top and eat our lunch, then go sailing down the tube on waxed paper, flying out the bottom like spitballs through a straw. At the theater she would sneak to the balcony if I went to the lobby for candy, then chuckle as she watched me trying to find her in the darkness. We made each other laugh hysterically to the point that we could not make eye contact without erupting into fits of giggles. My brother taught us to drive in his Volkswagon, on country roads on Sunday mornings when we were supposed to be at church. We spent countless hours at the local parks, swimming and watching baseball games. Boys and parties eventually replaced spy games and adventure but we remained close, sharing secrets, hopes, and dreams. Then came husbands and children and our lives took us in different directions. We still got together frequently, with children in tow, and our friendship remained strong. Throughout the years we have shared our lives with each other - the heartaches and grief, the love and the joys, the challenges of raising families, the successes, the disappointments. We have gone through busy periods of our lives when we didn't see each other often but then we were able to slip easily back into that comfortable closeness without missing a beat. She is and always will be my best friend.