A Goodbye Post to the Kleiners

Today, I’m sad. The reason you ask? Because my best friend is moving away. She and her husband and two children are moving on to accept a job in Oregon, four hours away. Obviously, leaving and moving is a fact of life. They will go on and be near her family and her husband will be able to work for a job that appreciates his talents. As we speak, they are closing the door on their three bedroom apartment and piling into their overflowing vehicles to make the long drive to their new home. I can’t help but feel at a loss.

After Brett and I got married, we moved to Provo, Utah. While the people there were amazing, I didn’t feel connected to most of them. Most of the friendships I made there took a great deal of work and effort. It was exhausting trying to be who people wanted to be along with trying to be who my husband needed me to be. When we got accepted to Washington State University and learned we would now be nine hours away from my family, a lot of tears were shed. How could my husband expect me to leave those who I love so much behind? How could he ask me to move so far away? Well, I married him and when marriage takes place, certain sacrifices have to be made. I learned a lot from moving away from family and not in the least was learning to love and depend more fully upon my husband.

But just as the Lord always does, He had something better in mind when he invited us to go to Pullman, Washington. He knew that I needed someone to be able to pick me up and heal me. That’s why he sent me Brittney.

Brittney’s husband, Holger, helped us a great deal when we moved in. He then invited us to dinner, understanding fully that we had no food yet in our fridge and that the move had drained our bank accounts. When we came over, our first impression was that the Kleiners were nice people and we were so grateful to be in the home of such giving people. Then, when Brittney and I began to talk, we realized something amazing was happening. Not only did we have a similar situation of having a hard time making and keeping friends, we had the exact same sense of humor! When we both laughed at something we found funny, we looked at each other and realized this was the start of something epic.

Over the next months, all that separated us was a stairwell. We got together nearly every night and talked, crocheted, cooked, baked, and laughed until our sides hurt. There were some days we cried together or sat in silence thinking deeply, fearful of what life would bring. We knew though, that no matter what, we had our families and we had each other.

A few months after we met, we realized that there was something else about our relationship that was fascinating. Both of us struggled with a particular hardship in our life. After talking and laughing and crying and exposing my soul to Brittney about this hardship, I found that I began to heal. By taking the time and giving so much to me, she was single handedly stitching the hole in my heart back together. Now, on the day she left, I am a different person than the sad girl she invited over for dinner for the first time.

I can feel the weight of my heart as I contemplate the goodbye we have to say. As I helped her clean her apartment, I realized I was cleaning their memories off the place.  Her daughter Maddie’s make up and nail polish was all over the bathroom. As I washed them away, I washed away the precious mommy daughter moments where they would do makeovers and Maddie’s face would light up because she loved her mom so much. I washed away the powder blue eye shadow she applied to her own eyes and the sparkles she layered on top. I wiped away her footprints running out of the bathroom while she exclaimed, “Mommy! Look! Aren’t I beautiful?” As I scrubbed the tub, I washed away fun bath time moments and put away piles of toys that were key characters at bath time plays and performances. When I vacuumed their living room, I vacuumed up late night talks between her and me and the crumbs we left on the floor when we gobbled up a whole pan of brownies while we expressed our frustrations with life. The kitchen no longer held the picture of a daisy that would over look us as we ate dinner and laughed at her son Eli as he played Wii Bowling. And the bedrooms were void of bedtime stories and Brittney’s countless hours spent soothing her daughter to sleep when sleep just didn’t seem fun enough.

 Now that the rooms are hollow and empty and all of the dirt and precious memories wiped away, I understand a valuable lesson that we all at some time in our lives have to learn. Forever is something we tell ourselves exists between us and someone else. “Oh we’ll have forever. They’ll never leave me,” we may say. But the truth is, someday they will leave. Someday they will go and we will be left wishing we had enjoyed more time and moments with them. We begin to realize the beauty in a child’s laughter even though it hurts our ears sometimes, the innocence in a little boy when his face lights up as he watches his favorite cartoon. And most of all, we realize the specialness of a friendship that fits so easily, like two pieces of a puzzle and the healing power that takes place through their selflessness and laughter. Life is about enjoying these things and taking them for what they are; gifts of God. Brittney was a gift to me to heal me, to make me laugh, and to understand me in a way few people could. Although I’m close to tears, I laugh at the idea of us backward fist pumping again and staying up late to cackle as we scour Pinterest for things that make our sides hurt. I will never forget Brittney and her amazing family. Someday, I hope to do for someone else what she has done for me and I will be forever grateful for her kindness. I’ll miss you gurl! See you soon!

 XOXO-

Brooklin