Yesterday I cried...

That seems like a rather strange thing to say since truly I cry nearly every day. But yesterday "I" cried. Me...Grace. Not the other parts, but ME.

Yesterday, an old friend of mine said something to me that touched my heart...and set off a multitude of feelings inside of me. Memories...not memories of the pain from my own past history of abuse, but memories of the friendship she and I shared from 2nd grade through High School Graduation.

I spent much of the evening thinking about my friend. Reliving, in my mind, the good times we spent together...all the smiles and laughs (and there are many). But I also remembered the hard times, the difficult times...the trying times that tests a friendship, as well as strength, courage and the will to survive and triumph through the pain of *life*. The tumultuous times we shared strengthened our friendship through the years and much of the time we lived on faith, but we lived it together.

I look back now and I can see the strength and endurance she had. The will and the fight not to give up and to overcome. And like me there were days when she wanted to roll over and give up. Wave the white flag...fall on the floor and kick and scream, "WHY ME!"

So Tuesday evening, when I read her message to me, I locked myself in the bathroom and I cried. I cried because of all she had to go through growing up. I cried because we are all so vulnerable and we all hurt and ache and struggle. And I cried because sometimes, all it takes is a few compassionate & caring words, maybe a hand to hold, from an old friend to give you "hope", even if for only an hour.

And after that hour I washed my face and walked out of that bathroom, every bit as vulnerable as I was when I went in...and as I walked past DH, he asked me why I had been crying. And I immediately responded that I had not been crying, but had just taken my make-up off and that was why my face was red.

I don't know why I didn't tell him the truth. Maybe it was fear that he wouldn't understand or think I was "a stupid baby"...but maybe it was fear because he would understand and he would offer to comfort me and a part of me couldn't accept that either.

It's been 20 years since we graduated high school...so much has changed and yet so much has remained the same.

And late Tuesday night, when I once again fell deep inside the pit of darkness, I reached up and held out my hand...and my 7 year old childhood friend, in her jeans and pink Izod...with her brown hair cut like Dorothy Hamill....looked at me with her caring hazel eyes, reached out and grabbed my hand. And I remembered....for an hour, I had *hope*.