When I was twelve, my father was transferred to Indianapolis during his Marine Corps career. It was an exciting duty station to all of us in the family because it was in a large city and close to our family in Wisconsin. There was Kentucky and something else as other choices but clearly we wanted Indiana. So, we moved just before I finished sixth grade. In literally hours of a drive, I went from attending an elementary school in Tennessee to being a middle school-er.
My father had scoped out Indy before we had moved. He was there weeks before we were, getting acquainted with his job as well as finding out about housing and schools. This wasn't going to be a normal base assignment. In fact, the nearest base was an army base, Ft. Benjamin Harrison, forty-five minutes away; and my father wasn't assigned there. But that's not what this is about....Just set up on how I met Betts (Hi, Beth!)
We moved to Pike Township at the suggestion of Beth's father, who I guess was my father's point of contact at work though they really didn't work together in all the years we were in Indy. And I guess because of Harold's suggestion to my dad (my pop liked as little decision making as possible), we moved into the same apartment complex and the same building.
The day I met Betts...I was unfolding curtains in the living room when she and her family entered the apartment. This short, blonde chick walked in....Now, I know Beth isn't going to get offended by calling her short because in comparison to me, most people in my life are short (I am related to a bunch of Filipinos). I'm 5'9" and have been for nearly most of my life. At that time I was probably only at 5'6" or so. If two people couldn't be more opposite than one another, it's Elizabeth Jane and me. Physically we are night and day. And at that time, I was the mad evil genius that fought constantly with parents and ended up committed in the mental hospital whilst my dear Beth was angelic and pure as the driven snow Bo Peep....Yeah, it was fun.
I think Beth's recollection of me goes something like this, "I thought you were the older sister or something. And you looked mean." (Yeah, I got that A LOT in my younger days. Now, everyone doesn't believe I can get pissed. Hmmm. I wonder what I've done wrong.)
So, we were thrown together because we were in the same grade, our fathers were literally in the only military parents in the entire township of rich suburbanites who had lived there for generations, and we lived in the same apartment complex. Sometimes, that's how friendships are formed. We had a couple of classes together including choir with a teacher that I swear came from Nazi Germany or was going through hormone replacement therapy (should middle-aged men go through hormone replacement therapy) and art with a teacher who couldn't get a grasp of the numerical ordering system of 1-10.
I hurt her feelings several times and she mine. We spent numerous sleepover nights with each other. We did the whole girly thing of secret names for each other and our enemies. She and her family were there when my brother was diagnosed with leukemia and when my dog of twelve years had to be put to sleep.
Then after three years, Beth moved to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. Another duty station. So, the military goes. We wrote as friends do; and when I was in ninth grade, my father got his orders: Camp Lejeune. NEVER in my life had I ever had this happen.
When you make a friend as a military dependent, it is rare that you hear from them again. It's almost certain death to your friendship when you moved to your parent's next duty station. It's a tough life on dependent children. It takes a lot of hard work to keep any friendship going when you are changing as teenagers but when you aren't in close proximity of each other, it's difficult. It can happen but rarely. If you have a childhood friend, chances are you lived near them nearly your entire childhood.
Camp Lejeune proved a real growing ground for the both of us. I think our friendship sealed itself because of my mental issues and family problems. On my first drive through town with Beth and her mother, we passed the area where Brynn Marr was located. Beth said something to the effect, "That's where the crazy hospital is." Little did any of us know that I would visit it twice before leaving North Carolina.
We lived through a lot there including my suicide attempt and a classmate drowning. We snuck peeks at her parents' soft porns and suffered through heartaches. Then our fathers retired. First mine. My last day was our junior prom and we stayed out at the beach after it was over. And when the day was done, my family said good-bye to hers and we moved to Tennessee. Her family eventually moved back to her home state of Missouri.
Now....we kept in touch. I went to her high school graduation. She visited me. We talked. I went to college. She went to dental assisting school. THEN THE INTERESTING STUFF. She got pregnant and months afterward...so did I. Our children are only months apart and like us, they are different physically. Her son is this blonde child whilst my giant of girl is dark hair and dark skinned.
When our children were not quite two, Em and I moved to Missouri to try something new. We moved into the home of Beth and her family. It lasted a month. And for a few years after that month, Beth and I were not friends. It's done. It's over with. Those years are behind us and with a phone call to Betts, we reacquainted ourselves.
It's been a while....almost nine years but we are finally going to see each other again. Beth and her kid (and her step-brother) are heading this way. They're spending some days here in Pcola. I am still amazed at how long we have been friends. TWENTY ONE YEARS! I am stunned at that. I know there are those of you out there that have friendships that have lasted longer than that. I commend you. I do. But ask a military brat who they still keep in touch with. Carrie knows. It doesn't happen like that. It just doesn't.
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