(Left: Carrie and Right: Me... one of the only pics of us together since Carrie is notoriously camera shy)
The
longest non-family-member bond I have is with my sistah Carrie. She moved to my
neighbourhood when we were about 11-12 and she still remembers how I approached
her at recess on her first day at my school, and asked her if she wanted to hang
with me and another girl. We immediately became inseparable. She would stop at
my house on the way to school and get me. She would come over at lunch. We
would be at either her house or my house after school until one of our parents
said we had to break it up or they gave in and let us sleep over.
Carrie was a little bit older than
me and always knew more. She had been through some rough situations that gave
her that “street smart” perspective that I was too sheltered and naive to know
about at that age. She gave me my first taste of alcohol and nursed me when I
thought I was going to die the next day. She held my secrets and told me about
all the things wrong with the world. She let me borrow her clothes and tried
desperately to do my bangs like hers although she had no idea how to work with
black hair.
Although we worked hard to stay at
the same schools, Carrie eventually left. When you’re a teenager this usually
means the end of the friendship, but not for us. Even when Carrie’s mom was
moving her around, or the occasional time she ran away, she would always call
me. She always let me know that she was ok and by that point she always knew
that she had a backup plan of being able to stay with me. She was the first
friend to call my parents Mom & Dad, instead of by their names. She even
fought with my sister when we fought because she was an only child and she
thought it was funny.
As we got older Carrie had two
beautiful daughters who I became Godmother of before even having to say it.
When she called to tell me she was pregnant I ran to her house and threw her
back on the bed and put my head on her non-existent belly and immediately
started talking to “my baby”. All she could do was laugh at me. When I was
pregnant she couldn’t wait to do the same with me. She was the one friend my
Mama called when they decided I was too sick and my daughter had to be
delivered. Carrie told my Mom that she would see her at the hospital and even
though she had no money for a cab, she was so determined to be there for me, that
she was going to walk. My Mom loved her enough to pick her up along the way,
because she couldn’t believe her dedication to me. Our children call each other
God-sisters and every time my daughter struggled, her daughters have been there
for her.
She has seen more misfortune than I
imagine is fair for one person and yet I see her get back up, work harder, and
keep trying where I feel like I would have given up a thousand times over. She
is quiet and strong willed and I admire the fact that once her mind is made up,
there is no deterring her plan. When I call her with problems, the answer is
always a simple “do it” or “don’t do it” but that is her nature, to stop making
things all wishy-washy and get it done. Carrie is my reason for hope.
