Donna Mae: BFF

It was second grade.  

Twenty some students sat in their fold-down bench seats attached to the desks, all connected to one another, row after row.  The teacher stood primly in front of the room, a phonics textbook in her hands wearing her thick-heeled shoes, mid-calf skirt and sweater-set, red lipstick fading on her smile.  Reading time was interrupted by Principal Hovik's knock on the door.

All eyes followed Miss McMellon as she clip-clopped to the classroom door--each of us hoping we were not in trouble--individually or collectively.  As our teacher opened the door, Mrs. Hovik stepped in with a stranger.  Patting a little girl lightly on her blonde head, the principal whispered a few words to Miss McMellon and left.

We stared at her--

a new student? 

It didn't happen often.  

She stood ram-rod straight as her blue eyes scanned the room.  Her blonde-blonde hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, and she was dressed nicely--a skirt and sweater set--much like the teacher's.

"Class," Miss McMellon announced fanning herself.  "We have a new student.  Her name is Donna Mae Gritten."  Looking about the room, and not being used to a new student in the middle of the first quarter, Miss McMellon paused before continuing.

 "We need to welcome her."

Some tried smiling, a couple of girls self-consciously clapped, a few boys rolled their eyes and did a quick re-count on boys vs girls.  Eileen giggled.

Looking somewhat flustered, our teacher looked about the room.

"We have no empty student desk," she explained to Donna who seemed not concerned that we were all staring at her or the fact that there was no where for her to sit.  "So, please, choose someone to sit with for today.  Tomorrow, we'll have a desk for you."

Miss McMellon gently nudged Donna Mae Gritten toward the classroom.  Donna stood firmly as she studied our faces.  Finding her cousin, Donnis, she nodded recognition.  Nonetheless, she made eye contact with a little, brown-haired girl with a shy smile and walked to her desk and sat beside her:  me.

And that was the beginning of our lifetime relationship.  It was 1955.

 

 

Sharing the bench-desk, eating goulash together in the cafeteria, playing on the slide and merry-go-round, we hit it off.  After getting off the bus that day, I ran all the way down our quarter-mile lane to tell my mother:

 I have a new friend!

In the months and years that followed:
we washed dozens of eggs
(fresh from her family hen house)
together in the basement,
wrote secret notes,
compared can-cans,
played basketball
(she was a guard, I was a forward),
went out for football cheerleading as seniors
(knowing nothing about the game),
became blood sisters after much debate,
talked about everything during our stay-over-nighters
from religion to sex to our unpredictable futures,
and celebrated our birthdays together.


We attended a church service one evening while in high school, and as we sang, "The Old Rugged Cross," tears streamed down our faces.  We were simultaneously touched.

Donna was expressive.  I was quiet.  She was in the fore-front; I was her shadow.  After a speech competition in high school, I read the judge's comments regarding her presentation.  The word histrionic was splashed on the page.  Curious, I looked it up when I got home:  Theatrical!  

The summer after graduation, we both worked at Lake Okoboji but rarely saw each other.  Transportation from one side of the lake to the other was a problem if one didn't own a car or a boat.  She worked at an inn; I worked at a church camp.  College, marriage, children and family responsibilities separated us further; and as the years passed, we lost touch except for an occasional birthday or Christmas card always ending with....

 I miss you.

Three years ago, I spent time in the Hospice Unit where my mother lay dying.  I discovered Donna's mother was recuperating from hip surgery three doors away.  I made tea for her, we talked, and then made a call to Donna.  Guess who I'm with? I asked her.

Currently, Donna's mother and my father live in the same assistive/nursing home facility, and we are re-connecting whenever possible.  After her last visit with her mother, Donna and her husband drove 2 1/2 hours to my house.  We visited the remainder of the day, into the evening hours, and the following morning over caramel rolls discussing children, grandchildren, jobs, retirement.  We didn't have time to talk about 

Remember when?

Donna and I were best friends, but during our high school years, we were a part of a group of six.  Over time, our lives took very different paths.  Linda committed suicide in her twenties, Cindy drowned when her car over-turned in a stream, Pat just recently died of breast cancer.*  And, Donna and I were wondering, 

Where is Barb?     We must find her.  

After loosing three in our friendship group and

caring for 

and 

watching our parents age, 

we are also wondering 

what life has in store for us.

As for now, we want to re-discover this precious, life-long relationship, talk  about our past and how it shaped who we are today, and discuss where God is leading us. 

The Bible records the friendships of Ruth and Naomi, David and Jonathan, Elijah and Elisa, and Job's companions.  These friendships displayed loyalty, compassion, forgiveness, selflessness.  Our friends keep us hopeful when we are down; they celebrate with us during our joy moments.  There is no envy or ill-will between friends.  Donna and I never argued; we always wanted the best for each other.

Thank you, God, for Donna.

We were created to be social creatures.  Did you know that World Friendship Day is celebrated every year on the first Sunday in the month of August?  Women's Friendship Day is on the third Sunday in August, and Old Friends, New Friends Week is the third week of May.

It seems that friendship is worthy of celebration! 

Let your friends know how much you appreciate them.

Keep them in your prayers.

God loves us.

*Patricia Ann, age 66, passed away on August 21, 2012, at her home following a courageous battle with cancer. We will miss her.