Michelle My Bell

A week before Thanksgiving, I sat at a funny old dining room table, outdoors in the bush of Nepal, with a Nepali woman named Eileen, trying to explain to her the tradition of Thanksgiving.

"It's a holiday where basically... Columbus came and discovered America, and he made friends with the Indians and they ate a large meal together." As I was explaining it, and realizing that the story of Thanksgiving emits some violent details... and as one of my teammates explained that the English had discovered America... I realized that our story wasn't the most accurate, but as far as she was concerned, it worked.

We explained about turkey, pie, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. We explained that it's a weekend where the cities shut down, students don't have school, and everyone heads home to spend time with their loved ones. We left out the part about the turkey coma, and watching a parade where a gigantic Charlie Brown floats down the streets of New York City... we weren't sure that part would translate well.

We explained to her that this season of the year is going to be a little tougher for us than the rest of the year... that the holiday season was about to begin. We all got a bit teary as we described the families we'd be missing this year as they sit down to dinner without us.

A few minutes into the conversation, my mind began to drift.

For my family, Thanksgiving has always been sort of a lonely holiday. We used to celebrate it with my paternal Grandparents who lived just a few hours away, but when I was young, they died, and other than a few surprise appearances from my Aunt and Uncle... usually... Thanksgiving is just the four of us.

We feel very small at a table that can stretch to fit about twelve, and my parents spend all day preparing a meal, which is delicious, but sometimes just feels silly when cooking just for four.

I adore my family, and I love spending the day with them, but it really is a holiday that magnifies the fact that my grandparents are no longer with us.

I think now it's time for me to tell you about my best friend Michelle. She's six feet tall, all legs, a stunning brunette with bright blue eyes. She's the funniest girl I've ever met, can have a crowd entertained for hours, and you can hear her laugh from miles away. She is incredibly intelligent, a Spanish major who is currently teaching English in Spain. She's passionate about her work and passionate about the Lord. An atheist for the first 18 years of her life, she met Jesus her freshman year of college, and then three years later, introduced me to him, changing my life forever.

Michelle and I have walked through life together since third grade when she made fun of me for having potpourri in my locker... at the time we were both proudly sporting braces and bangs. We have been through so much together since then, the messiness of high school, the craziness of college, we even studied abroad together... twice.

We have memories that date back to third grade, and reach all the way to the night before I left for the race, when she cuddled next to me in my bed, and hugged me tightly as I slipped out the door to head to the airport before dawn.

Well, each year, Michelle's family goes on vacation to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Every year she invites me, but picturing my family's faces as I announce that I'm going to trade in precious time with them for a beach and a margarita was just too much... so I never even broached the subject.

But this year was different.

After graduating from the University of Colorado, Michelle and I both set off for a summer of mission work. She was heading to Costa Rica, and I was heading to Ghana. She left two days before me, and got back two days before me at the end of the summer.

When I got back from Ghana, my team went immediately to Florida for a weekend debrief. The second my cell phone was charged, I called Michelle. As the phone was ringing, I sat down next to a lake, my knees curled up under me, more than ready to hear my best friend's voice. 

"Steph... I have something to tell you. I was offered a job teaching in Costa Rica, and I'm going back for the next four months."

Without a moment's pause, I burst into tears. I literally felt like someone had just told me that my dog died. I was devastated. She and I had made so many plans about our first year out of college, and I had missed her so much that summer, I couldn't imagine what I was going to do heading into the real world, without her.

A few months later, she sent me an email inviting me on the annual Thanksgiving trip to Mexico. She explained that she was going to go straight from Costa Rica to Puerto Vallarta to meet up with her family before heading home.

Having not seen her in so long, I decided to risk it and run the idea past my family.

Over a dinner of various kinds of steaming Chinese food, I brought up the idea. And just as I expected, their faces fell.

So I tried another approach.

"What if we all went?"

To my absolute shock, they actually considered my proposal, and a month later, my family was sitting on the beach, daiquiris in hand, waiting for Michelle and her family to arrive.

I couldn't WAIT. And I didn't have to wait long.

Midway through my favorite Jason Mraz song, someone slid into my beach chair as if sliding into home. It was Michelle, decked out in her finest beachwear and looking stunning.

I screamed, and jumped up and we hugged and jumped around like little Justin Beiber fans, laughing and making a spectacle of ourselves... and not caring in the slightest.

The next several days were spent taking long walks on the beach talking about everything we could think of. We talked about everything, and talked about nothing... soaking in the sun and each other's presence, our toes squishing in the sand, just feeling like we were finally home.

On Thanksgiving Day, our two families, all eleven of us, sat around a huge table with heaping piles of food, next to the shimmering pool at our resort. We ate and laughed and took pictures... and as our families talked and joked with each other, for the first Thanksgiving since my grandparents died, I didn't feel quite so lonely.

After dinner, my mom took a few pictures of Michelle and I as we wrapped our arms around each other in the tightest squeeze we could muster.

Her dad turned to my dad and said, "If they get married... which one of us has to pay for the wedding?"

All joking aside though... Michelle has taught me so much about what it is to love and be loved unconditionally. She's taught me so much about what it is to be completely raw with someone and to trust them with the deepest uglies of your heart. She's taught me about the beauty of history in relationships and the process of peaceful and diplomatic decision-making. Sometimes I really feel like we are married. She's such a constant in my life, always has been and always will be.

All the men that have ever been in our lives know that they absolutely must earn the approval of the other, and that we absolutely won't get married until we love someone as much as we love each other.

She is my best friend, my female soul mate, and I love her with all of my heart.

So this Thanksgiving, as I am missing my family so much, I am missing Michelle just as much, because she is family. And as she's in Spain for this holiday season, I want her to know that her family is missing her and loving her, and that no amount of distance can test these besties.

Best friends are treasures. They're gifts and they're something to hold onto and fight for, even from across the world.

Michelle... my bell, you are my best friend, I will love you forever, and next Thanksgiving, I expect to be strolling hand in hand with you on the beach in Mexico. :-) I love you.