October 21, 2000 ~ Compassion through Pain, a Friendship

Last night, Suzanne called me. We have been out of touch recently, and it made my day to talk to her again.

In elementary school, Suzanne Blake was the "dorky" girl with the wild, frizzy hair and thick, pink-rimmed glasses who always had a book seven inches from her nose wherever she went and always seemed oblivious to everything around her. Suzanne was the student who never noticed when the teacher called on her and couldn't throw a ball more than five feet at recess. She wore "old fashioned" clothes and rainbow-laced black high tops. She didn't watch television, and her parents held hands in public. Her best friend was an "icky" boy, and she had peeled her bananas the "wrong" way. Suzanne was weird--an outcast. In seventh grade, however, Suzanne offered me a seat on the bus. With my acceptance of that seat, I began what is sure to be a lifelong friendship, and she changed my life forever.

Throughout middle school, my friendship with Suzanne blossomed. We taught each other self-confidence, because each of us showed the other the beauty within herself. We learned from each other that it was okay to be different than the "others." Due to the fact that we were both avid readers, we reveled in imaginary worlds together. Most importantly, however, Suzanne and I gave each other a taste of completely different worlds in reality. Suzanne had lead a very sheltered life, and I was amazed to find that her parents actually still loved each other and showed it. They were fair in punishing Suzanne, and she actually got along with them much of the time. On top of it all, they were Christians. Christians usually made me nervous and frustrated, but the Blakes were Christians of a sort I had never encountered before. The Christians I had known from my early childhood at the church that my parents had tried to attend for a time (before they gave up the charade) were very confusing folk. Those Christians had been plenty polite and kind while at church, and so had my parents, but as soon as my family got home and away from the social atmosphere of the church, they started yelling at each other. They would do things that the Pastor had warned specifically against in the sermons. I may have been young, but I understood what hypocrisy was, even if I couldn't spell it. From what I knew of Christianity, it was a hypocrisy.

The Blakes, however, were different. Sunday was not a day to approach with dread but was "fun" instead. They acted like good people away from church. They were kind, and actually spent time studying the Bible because they enjoyed it. Their house was always open to me. They were very honest and giving. When I visited, I could feel the love and warmth between them.

I didn't bring Suzanne to my house very often. I feared my parents would get in a fight and embarrass me, or perhaps my brother would make fun of her. I would not be able to offer her food, for taking food at times other than meals was not allowed, and there wasn't much food to begin with. If we stayed in my room the whole time, my little sister would insist on staying with us, for it was "her room, too." If we tried to keep her out, she would run to my mother and cry about it, thus causing my mother to lose her temper and possibly even spank me—despite my age—in front of my friend.

Inevitably, however, Suzanne did visit on occasion. Through these brief and few visits, she learned what a broken family was. What shocked me was that she was not shocked and repulsed, but, instead, she had a great deal of compassion for me, and was always there with a shoulder to cry on. Suzanne's door was always open, and she was only a ten-minute walk away, so when things were bad at home, she was there to help me, to listen and support.

When we reached high school, we were more inseparable than ever before. When Suzanne took up my interest in writing, a healthy competition developed between us. We had the same teachers, and, because of this, we were constantly pushing each other to excel on our papers in order to see who would gain the most praiseworthy teacher comments. Her presence in my classes pushed me more than anything else to polish my writing skills more than I ever had before. It was great for me, for I wanted very badly to write professionally someday, and would never have had the motivation so early in life to come a little closer to that goal if it had not been for her presence.

Suzanne shared my hatred of mathematics. We both excelled at language related classes, but could not fathom the mysteries of arithmetic. We formed a two-person math trauma mini support group. If it had not been for Suzanne's support through Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry, and Pre-Calculus, I never would have made it through any of those classes.

When I got back from court after my parents divorced, Suzanne was the first person I called, in tears, to let her know that my mother had been awarded custody, against the will of us kids. At that point in my life, my mother and I had a very unhealthy relationship. Suzanne knew how much this had meant to me, and she came straight over to my house to pick me up and let me spend the night with her. She just held me and let me cry for hours.

A few months later, when I started a relationship with Kris, the one other serious relationship I have had in my life, Suzanne warned me that she didn't think it would work out. He made many promises to me, however, beautiful promises that I felt would bring me happiness. I asked Suzanne to be happy for me, but she insisted that she couldn't be happy when she knew I was going to be hurt. She promised not to sabotage the relationship, but she warned me that she was sure I was making a mistake. As my time with Kris progressed, he broke most of his promises, and threatening to kill himself if he ever "lost me." A year later, we were engaged, and I was in over my head. I had been very self-righteous about the whole affair, and had rebelled against every friend and family member while trying to make my relationship with Kris work. I knew that he was manipulating me. I knew that I could never be happy with a man I could not respect. At the same time, however, I knew that I could not swallow my pride and call off the engagement.

Meanwhile, my family life was getting worse and worse. Suzanne was still there when I needed her, but distanced, a little. She couldn't look past the fact that I was still ignoring her advice about Kris. As right as she was about the matter, I couldn't admit that she was right. She was still there for me, though, and she never failed to be there when I needed her. She became increasingly concerned with my living situation, and when I brought up the possibility of moving out, she strongly supported the idea, but she did not push me. I had always felt that my relationship with my mother would be less strained if we were not living under the same roof, but where would I go?

Eventually, things at my home came to a breaking point, and it was the last straw for Suzanne. She decided that I was moving out, then and there. She convinced her parents to clear out their storage room, and had them set up a bed in it for me. She called my mother and said I was leaving. My mother was furious, but Suzanne came over and calmly packed my few belongings up and loaded them into her parents' car, which was waiting in the driveway.

Suzanne's parents took me in and loved me as if I were one of their own children. With Suzanne's help, I caught up in the schoolwork I had missed, due to my family situation, and graduated from high school with Highest Honors. Suzanne helped me build up the courage to break up with Kris, my ex-fiancé. With my friend to give advice and counseling, I slowly began to repair my relationship with my mother. If Suzanne hadn't delivered me from my broken home, I would never have had the courage to face up to my past and let it go. Because Suzanne pulled some strings and got me some tickets, I was able to attend a seminar that turned my life around. Because of this one amazing seminar she smuggled me into, I finally found faith, and I was, at last, at peace with my past. We helped each other in a job hunt, and I became self-sufficient and began paying her parents room and board. Family financial situations and the divorce had kept me from applying to college, but, because Suzanne motivated me to turn in some applications to Portland State University and because my relationship with my mother improved, I was able to be accepted and use that university as a stepping stone to getting into Warren Wilson, where I am now.

Suzanne caused a cascade of events that turned my entire life around, and she helped me find peace. If it were not for our love and devotion to each other as good friends, I would never have found my place in the world; I would never have moved closer to being more myself. Suzanne gave me the opportunity to stand up on my own.

And so I am very glad that she made contact once again.

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