My Friend

"Hello, my friend." 
"Hello, my fray-yun."
That is how my friend Debra and I always greet each other.  She has the sweetest Southern drawl.  Can you tell which greeting above would be hers?  I used to tease her sometimes as all her words had at least 2 syllables.  She would kindly point out that "carpetbagger" has 4.

My friend is very sick.  The kind of sick where you don't get better.  She has a lot of sicks right now and any one on it's own would be the kind where you don't get better. It's called hospice.  Hospice is the ultimate oxymoron.  A very sad word, yet the greatest of blessings.   

This past week my lifelong sister friend, Kelley, offered to ride along with me to Georgia if I wanted to go see my Debra.  After consulting with her family and getting the green light for a visit, there was no stopping me.  Sunday, Kelley and I took off for Georgia.  This would be a large loop of a trip.  Four days on the calendar but since we left around noon on Sunday and returned just after noon on Wednesday, it was more like 72 hours.

My Debra recognized me right away.  I think she was happy to see me. "My friend". "My fray-yund."  I got to sit beside her for a while. I held her hand and placed in it a school size carton of chocolate milk. Actually, I took 2 cartons, one for Debra and one for me. Thank you to my other pal, Tammy for securing these for me.  Tammy is about the only person left working in the schools that I even know these days and her school was convenient in proximity to Debra's house.  So I could scoop them up easily.   I knew we wouldn't drink them, but I figured her 2 grandsons would enjoy them and since there were 2, they wouldn't have to fight over them.

I cherished my time with Debra and her family on Monday afternoon.  After sharing some of our memories, some idle chit-chat and me teaching her grandson to cheer for the Cardinals, the Blues and UGA football, it was the dreaded time for me to go.  I told her that I loved her.  She reciprocated.  A gentle hug cheek to cheek.  I don't remember if I used the word good-bye or the words, I'll see you.  The latter is more true.  Then I left her in the comfort and care of her loving family and her Lord.  I find a great peace in knowing that she knows where she is going.  She knows her glorious eternal life is coming.  She knows. 

There are too many to count Gail and Debra stories, but I'd like to share a few. The 2 that I reminded her of the other day and the explanation of the chocolate milk.

Picture it:  A PTA State Convention in Macon, GA.  Debra and I went and decided not to spend the night after the banquet.  We could drive home, be home by 11:00 and in our own beds.  Although we could have even shared a bed if we had to.  We've done it before - back when we were on the school retreat weekend in the North Georgia Mountains.   Somehow we ended up with a king size instead of a room with 2 beds.  The different sleeping styles of Felix (Debra) and Oscar (me) survived that just fine.  But. back to the PTA.  We were seated at a table with a lady from one of the schools in our county.  And by "lady" I mean a looney tunes, crazy person.  As Debra said when we talked this past Monday, "she was craaaazy". We survived the evening of observing this woman's antics by not making eye contact with each other.  Eye contact would have had us both erupting in uncontrollable laughter.  We survived the dinner only to have a humorous incident happen as we were leaving the ladies restroom, which was our last stop before getting into the car for the drive home.  We suddenly looked at each other when we saw what we saw, made eye contact and lost it.  Let me repeat.  We. Both. Lost. It. I'm not sure if I've ever laughed so hard before or since.  But, hey, I'd held it in all night through dinner.  It had been building up and it had to go somewhere.  I doubled over, had to find a chair to sit and compose myself and dry my eyes.    The conversation on the drive home was lively and sprinkled with more laughter.

Then there was the day at Peek's Chapel Elementary when I was having what could only be described as a panic attack.  I was concerned about something and my anxiety took over.  I went to the office to talk to my friend, Debra.  She could tell I was in full panic mode.  She told me "Stop talking. Wait." Then, there was a long and fast sequence of events.  She turned to the other secretary and told her she'd be back in about 10 minutes, drug me down to the cafeteria which was empty before lunch, we went to the serving line, got 2 cartons of chocolate milk, she hollered at the lunch ladies to put them on her account and we went out to the cafeteria where we drank our chocolate milk together.  She let me talk, she listened and then she talked me off the ledge.  Those little cartons of chocolate milk became symbolic to both of us.  After my move to Illinois, sometimes one of us would feel the need to e-mail a clip art picture of a school chocolate milk carton to the other.  Or, we'd post them on each others FaceBook pages.  In early 2013, when my dad became very ill, I was working at Carlinville High School.  One morning, one of the school secretaries came into my office and said that a lady from Georgia had called her and asked her to bring this.  She then placed a carton of chocolate milk on my desk.  Of course, I fell apart, which scared the secretary until I told her it was okay.  She sat with me and listened to the origin of the chocolate milk and she discovered in that conversation, what a caring and loving person my friend, Debra is.  I believe I was able to reciprocate the gesture when Debra was still at Davis Middle School and her Mama was so sick.  Of course, I couldn't call because Debra would answer the phone.  So I e-mailed one of the other office ladies.  There are many ways to send love in a carton of chocolate milk.

But, my favorite Debra story is this... It starts with A.J.  As most of you know, he played roller hockey in high school.  This was in Gwinnett County about an hour from Conyers.  After practice or a game was over, usually around 8:00 or 9:00 at night, we would go to Steak n Shake or one of our other favorite restaurants since there was no way I'd drive that hour and make supper so late at night.  Between rink and restaurant, let's just say, A.J. would get comfortable in the car. Some of his equipment would be removed during the ride and flung in the back seat.  A few days after one of these events, I was picking up Debra to go somewhere.  There must have been someone already in the front seat as she was getting into the back seat.  But, she stopped.  There IT was on the seat.  Debra, the girl mom, was not going to sit on it or touch it.  Me, the boy mom, just laughed, reached back, picked it up and flung it further into the depths of the car, all the while chuckling and explaining to her, that not all CUPS are meant for drinking.  A.J. was probably good training for her as the girl mom became a boy grandma.  In a few months, this boy mom will become a girl grandma and I'm glad I had Debra as an example.  But, the fact is, Debra loved ALL babies and children.  I will think of her loving ways and hope to emulate her when this precious baby comes into my life. 
As I look down the road to a little girl and maybe grandparents day at her school when she hands me her carton of chocolate milk and says, "Gigi, can you help me open this?"  Not only will I open it through my welled up eyes, but I'll tell her just how much love can be found in that carton of chocolate milk.  With every scrape, bump or booboo, I will make her a small glass of chocolate milk because that fixes everything. 

But, sometimes it can't fix everything. Like now.  It can only provide comfort to my heart with memories of love.

On my trip this week, I also stopped in to see several other friends in the area.  Just an hour or two visit with most, but enjoying their love and friendship.  They all know Debra and what a sweetie she is and all are praying for everyone involved. I felt a bit remorseful that my reason for this trip was somewhat clouded in all the joy of seeing other friends and the always hilarious adventures of yet another Kelley/Gail road trip.  But, as Kelley pointed out:  while I was saying "see you later" to a cherished friend and friendship, I was also quietly acknowledging the cycles of life and God by celebrating and cherishing other friendships He has blessed me with.  The lesson is simple.  Debra would never take her family and friendships for granted.  To honor her, we shouldn't either. 

Thank you, God, for friendships.  Old and new.  Present in our lives and present only in our memories. 

I love you, My Friend.