“Commit this into your brain and heart: You can not get rid of me. Not now, not ever.” -Yetti
When my “Auntie” Raine stood near my Gram’s casket and declared Ms. Minnie the best friend anyone could ever have, she planted the seed for my faith in friendship. Fifty years, countless tragedies, unspeakable secrets, and at the end of it all were two women: one standing, the other laid to rest. Sitting in the Unity Funeral Chapel that day, I knew that was theirs was the kind of friendship I would always want to have. Even death couldn’t do their union part.
The night I met Yetti at See.Speak.Feel 2015, she opted to go sleep, rather than hang out with the crew. In that moment I knew she was my kind of people and we’d be cool like the other side of the pillow. There was no real transition after that. We were fast friends. My body had never met her, but my soul knew exactly who she was.
We never take selfies or invade each other’s Snapchats. Our friendship doesn’t require photo eveidence. We loaf around all day, watching Harry Potter and plotting world domination during commercials. We speak in British accents and sip spiked tea (okay, I sip spiked tea). We prescribe self-care remedies and discuss the explicit differences between lifestyle and personal blogging.
We have every reason to be rivals, yet we still always manage to put friendship first. It’s Yetti who sets up my tough appointments. It’s Yetti who FaceTimes me at my ugliest and talks me through the day. It’s Yetti who picks up the phone at (insert egregious hour) despite needing to be on call with India any minute.
I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have much faith in forever. It’s just such a long time to keep a good thing going. Outside of my eternity with Jesus, I feel like nothing really lasts. Not Glade plug-ins, not everlasting Gobstoppers, not Home Alone marathons– nothing.
But I realize, with Yetti, as I did with Minnie & Raine, that the fun part doesn’t make a friendship forever. In fact, we might have passed the fun-y-moon phase, but I think we’re the perfect picture of forever. Forever friendships look like us getting through hell weekend in Boston, with good memories to spare. Forever is breaking into the bathroom stall because you ain’t got time to knock when your friend may be hurt (no, Yetunde, you will never live that down). Forever is calling Amtrak when your friend loses her journal, because her crisis is your crisis.
We ain’t no Minnie & Raine. We haven’t marched on Washington or helped each other bury a child, or leaned on one another when a president was assassinated, but I have faith that through time and distance, disagreements and confusion, shedding and building, hurt feelings and whole apologies, it’ll always be you and me standing at the end, until one of us is laid to rest.
On a day when our country is mourning over apathy and buffoonery, I need you to know that, in my Grinch-sized heart, you are celebrated. Happy Birthday YettiBear. Thank you for teaching me it’s okay to let someone new get to know you. Thank you for dragging me to brunches and pushing me to new heights. Thank you for being the Gayle to my Oprah on some days, and the Oprah to my Gayle on others. Love you my YettiBear.
This post is part of @GGreneewrites #30Layers30Days. Day 9: faith and forever