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When I was in middle school, I found that I could make friendships fairly easily with my classmates. However, I kept on hoping for that one best friend, that one who could practically read your mind, and who knows you better than anyone else. At that age, most of those friendships were fairly surface-level, of crushes and classes, and rarely delving to a level of confidence that I felt I needed for a so-called “BFF”. I wanted something more than the cheesy (ok, I totally wanted one at a point) threaded friendship bracelets.

When I was fifteen, I met someone who proved that I could in fact have that sort of best friend. I attended a music camp (which if you’ve read one or two posts, you’ve seen MMA referenced regularly). She was headed to the same dance seminar that I was. Turned out that she was a first-year, just like I was. I don’t remember who began the conversation, but it didn’t take long for me to completely open up to her. She reminded me a lot of myself, and she was just so much fun to hang out with. It felt like we were kindred spirits, and our birthdays being mere hours from one another further solidified that idea.

By the middle of the week, we were talking to the wee hours of the morning about boyfriends, parents, music, hopes and dreams. I didn’t even notice that the week of camp was quickly wrapping up. By the end of the week, she and I embraced each other with tears streaming down our cheeks.

A year later, she approached me from the other side of the campus lawn while I was engaged in conversation with a friend. As soon as I saw her, we quickly ran to each other, screaming like the sixteen year-olds we were. That week we decided to room together at camp and our late night talks turned later and later. By the end of the week, we were drained from the lack of sleep.

This July will mark seven years of friendship with her. Yet, the amount of time we’ve spent together numbers less than one month altogether. Long distance friendships suck. However, it makes the reunions even that much more exciting. Whether it’s on the campus of St. Catherine’s or more typically, at an airport, I can’t help squealing like a teenager and quickly running to hug my friend. In 2010 we had the amazing opportunity to celebrate our 21st birthdays together, and I absolutely cannot wait to celebrate more milestones together, whether the dreaded 30th birthday, or perhaps even 40!

While there is no particular occasion that prompted this other than missing Danielle, I realized that if I’m going to reflect on my past at all, or talk about my future on this blog, that this young lady has to be mentioned. She’s been there through everything, and I hope I’ve been as good of a friend to her as she has been to me. I already know that she will be standing at my side when I marry my future husband (Danielle is already collecting stuff for her maid of honor speech) and that she will always be near to my heart even when a few thousand miles separate us both. It’s truly better than diamonds to have that sort of friendship that spans miles, years and plenty of tears.

Love you BFFLTF

{Note: While in Europe on a choir tour, I wrote some small reflections and poetry. This is the first reflection, on Auschwitz concentration camp.}

May 26th, 2011

Today we visited Auschwitz concentration camp. I completely did not know what to expect. We studied Auschwitz in history courses, but what I saw was completely different from what I expected. As I later would tell people, it became too difficult for me to capture photos in color of this terrible place, so I resorted to the black and white setting on my camera.

When we entered the camp, I quickly noticed that my shoes were too worn for the walk along the stony pathways. But then I thought about those who were imprisoned at Auschwitz and how they typically would have to walk barefooted, how much pain they would experience.

Clothes for babies collected among the victims

We were led among their beds, we saw where they slept, ate, and where they eventually died. It was heartbreaking, especially when I saw some baby clothes and the large collection of hair. There was so much hair…

We saw photos and dates of those who died at Auschwitz. I saw the surname of a friend of mine, which sent chills through my body. The thought that someone even remotely related to my friend had been killed at Auschwitz was just too close. We were led to the gas chambers and the incinerators. I saw the window, the place where men and women would look outside for the last time, not knowing their fate. The next room after the gas chamber was the incinerators. I could not help but keep reciting in my head “Lord have mercy…”

After we visited the gas chambers, where so many had died, our tour guide departed from us and we began to gather on benches. We prayed, wept, recited rosaries, held each other, and sat there in silent disbelief that such a thing had happened. No words…can adequately describe what our hearts felt at that moment, except for an understanding that this can never, ever, happen again.