Missing My Best Friend

Yesterday was non stop taking the kids to and from the places they needed to be from 6:45 in the morning until the time we got home about 10:00.  Today will be almost as busy.  I rose at 6:15 to shower then took Julia to swim practice at 6:45, came back home, picked up Michael Anthony, then took him to Belhaven University for a tennis camp.  My list of to do’s is long for today and , in addition to all of this, I have Keagan, our 5 year old foster child that we had for one year, and his 3 year old younger brother, Kaidan, for the week with two overnight stays.  As I type this, I hear them battling with the knights in the castle upstairs.  There have been rhythms to staying busy then periods of quietness, tears, and reflection.  The busy times are good for keeping me focused of the life before me and force me to plan and look to the future.  This morning, I had a strong mix of the two for the first time.

This morning when I woke up, I had my “game face on”, as some people say. I woke up with a purpose of knowing all that had to happen today and went straight to it. I took Julia to practice, got home just in time to receive Keagan and Kaidan in my driveway, fed them breakfast, woke up Michael Anthony, fixed him a smoothie, woke up Mia so she could help with the boys, then took Michael Anthony to the tennis camp.  As I turned onto North State Street on my way back home, I suddenly wanted to call Michael to just small talk.  I had a sudden realization that I really missed him as my best friend. I began to approach his old office, which still has his logo etched in the glass on the front window, Barranco Architecture and Interior Design.  I passed this building so many times with the children going back and forth to the downtown library or violin and guitar lessons.  The front of the building is all glass with the conference room up front.  Every time we passed by, the kids would strain their eyes as we drove by to see if Dad was in a meeting in the conference room or crane their neck to see if his car was parked in “his” spot around the back of the building.  It was very comforting to all of us to see him there.  The kids loved to go with him to the office to hang out and do their schoolwork, drink cokes from the kitchen, or play on his computer.    Sometimes on weekends, if he had some organizing or work to do, we would go up there as a family on a Friday night and order pizza and maybe project a movie up on the wall.   There have been nerf gun wars in that office, roller blading, hide and seek, and I believe even scooter riding when Michael Anthony was little.  The kid’s ages were about 3,5,and 9 when he bought that building, so they essentially grew up there.  We have not been back inside his office yet because I know that it is going to be very hard for all of us.  Julia wants to be sure that we bring home his coffee mugs, and I am sure the others have there own memories wrapped up in certain objects that they would only see at Dad’s office.

I found myself silently crying while I was driving down North State Street with short outbursts of wails.  He was my best friend, a safe place, someone who cared about listening to the mundane, someone who stood by me and loved me no matter how I acted, someone with whom to share little joys and small victories, someone with whom to share a beautiful moment, someone who was always available to me – in the good or the bad, never too busy to respond, someone who prayed for me daily… A true best friend.  I am greatly missing that aspect of our relationship.

I miss you my sweet friend, where did you go?

How can anyone fill your shoes?

I need your shoulder, your listening ear, your eye contact.

I need your thumb rubbing my thumb telling me it is all going to be okay.

I need your sweet hello on the phone,

It always sounded so happy to hear from me.

I miss your heart.

It comforts me to imagine how great God’s plans must be for you, for Him to take you away from here, so that He can use you even more from there.  

I always knew you were chosen and set aside for God’s purposes.

 What direction is He taking us?

I know you are learning from and being used by

 the Great architect and the original Master planner.

You used to sing the song, “I am a friend of God, He calls me friend.” 

How true that is.

He is my friend, too, and now I share the mundane with Him, the little joys,

the small victories, and the beautiful moments. 

I cry to Him and He is happy to hear my voice, just like you…

But I miss you still…