Codependent Besties

My memory of my life starts out sharing a room with Richelle and Raelynn.  Raelynn was in a crib...Richelle and I shared blue bunk-beds. I'm not sure they were always blue, but that's how I remember them.  


They weren't the new fancy type of bunk-beds with wooden boards under the mattresses. Nope...they were the kind with metal springs holding up the top mattress.  The kind that bounced/flexed when your older sister (who ALWAYS had the top bunk) got into bed...or moved while she was up in the bed.  The kind that if you sat up on your own bed...your hair was violently ripped out of your head from beyond the root...the kind that left bald spots and made you bleed.  In all my years of a bunk-beds...I never one time got the top bunk.


When Robyn married Bill and moved out, I was quickly moved in with Regina.  This time I got a daybed...but I doubt my new roommate was any more thrilled to have me as a roomie.  Regina was in high school...and I was 8ish.  I don't remember being welcomed, but I remember Richelle happily shoved me and my things out of her room.


When Regina moved out, I shared with Raelynn.  When Richelle finally moved out, I finally got my own room.  Richelle was forced into sharing a bunk-bed with Raelynn when she came home from college (every single weekend).


I remember when we were really little, Richelle and I played a lot together.  Then she started getting too old to play with me...she started liking boys and wearing make-up...while I was still playing with dolls. 


We used to build forts on our bottom bunks with Ryan and Travis in hopes to keep the invading Russians away. We stole all of the decorative pillows from Mom and Dad's room and then built up a wall locking us safely in the bottom bunk.


When my parents would leave for date night, we used to take all the pillows...the couch cushions included...and play games having to jump from pillow to pillow...never touching the carpet, or lava...or whatever it happened to be that night.  When the lights of the van would turn into the driveway, we'd all get the pillows/house back in order...while trying not to panic that we'd get caught!!  


Our friendship seemed to end there for a time.  For me, it ended every time I lost a chunk of hair in those damn bed springs, but I believe it was a mutual feeling back then.


Life got a little complicated at our house when my mom got sick.  We all got along, knowing what was coming and not wanting to cause our mother any extra stress.


Richelle was the one who held my hand as we followed my mother's casket up the aisle in the church the day we buried her.  She was the one I could look at and we knew what the other was thinking when my dad told us to be strong.  


After she died, life got even more complicated.  My dad grieved...he ate a lot of Diet Dr. Pepper and Snickers bars.  Richelle went back to NAU during the week.  Ryan went back to BYU.  Robyn had two little kids and Regina had a new baby too.  Dad and I didn't exactly see eye-to-eye, but we made it work.  I made sure Raelynn was taken care of...and did as much around the house as I could.  When Richelle came home on the weekends, she helped out, but at the time, it just seemed to mess up the rhythm we had going at home.


Then Dad started dating (Mela)Noma.  Life changed again.  He was gone a lot of weekends visiting her in Utah, and Richelle was in charge at home.  That was no good for me.


We fought a lot.  We were in a constant battle for power...she wanted it...and had it.  I was 16, so I wanted it even more, but didn't have any.  We had some pretty epic fights.  Life was a bundle of joy...for everyone involved.


Then my dad married Crazy...and we moved.  Richelle and Anthony bought the house we grew up in and got married.  I was still in HS and still taking care of Raelynn as much as possible...no way I was leaving Crazy to do that while Dad was working.


Lets just say that the few short months Crazy graced us with her presence were a struggle for all of us.  I can't think if another situation I've been in like that one...it was hell.  Richelle and I seemed to build a bond over that time.  We had become friends, but I think that pushed us closer together. 


It helped that Kyle and Anthony were such good friends...and we all liked to hang out.  We started playing Canasta every week...and camping and shopping together.  It was the highlight of those years.  When Crazy moved out...that was another highlight for all of us.


Then I got engaged.  Kyle and I bought a condo a few miles from Richelle and Anthony's house and were married a few months later. We continued to grow closer, and spent as much time together as possible.  We had so much fun camping together...hiding in the tent, in the pitch black, scary sounds, no fires, playing games, good food...lots of laughs.  The four of us were inseparable...like she had never tired to kill all those years before.


The night Kyle fell my world ended.  As the police department was escorting me to the ambulance, the other Scout leader that was with us, Tom, asked me who he should call.  I couldn't remember any other number than Richelle's.  I can't even remember that number as I sit here, but it was the only thing in my head at that very moment.  She was the only person on this Earth I needed...other than Kyle.


When the Firefighters left me in that small room at the hospital, first I puked...then I called Richelle.  I remember feeling helpless...and I begged her to be there with me.  She assured me that she and Anthony were on their way...and that they were hurrying.  I felt so alone.  I tried to wash some of the blood off my hands and face...then I called her again.  She was still on her way. I was sure I wouldn't make it.


After everyone arrived, the doctor came to get us...me, my dad Carlys and Kyle's parents.  He took us back to that small room and told us the news.  Kyle had a 0% chance of surviving his injuries.  He said a lot more than that, but that's all I heard.  The doctor finally quit talking and the only thing I remember wanting was Richelle.  I guess I thought she would fix it.  I remember her walking towards me down the hallway...and I remember not being able to stand after she got to me.  


Luckily, she was strong enough to hold us both up.


I know she had to leave my side that night, so others could take their turn saying their goodbyes, but I know she never really left.  She was there to carry me when I couldn't walk on my own.


I rode home with Richelle and Anthony to their house after we had to leave the hospital...she took care of me that first week.  She helped bathe me.  She made sure I had clothes to wear to the funeral.  She helped plan the funeral...she is still the other half of my brain.


Life moved forward...slowly, but surely.  I spent hours and hours in her classroom that year...and the next.  I usually just slumped in her chair at her desk, but I guess it was better than being alone.  She never complained or made me leave...even though I'm sure it got old.


On September 11th, 2001...after watching the second plane crash into the second tower, I skipped class at GCC and drove to Richelle's classroom.  I didn't know what else to do...or if there would be more attacks, but I knew I wanted to be with Richelle no matter what happened.


I have eaten more meals, cried more tears, laughed so hard I've peed my pants...all with Richelle.  She is my best friend...no question about it.  She knows me through and through and loves me in spite of it.


She has let me love her boys, intrude on her family time, invite myself on family vacations and just plain let me be a part of her family's life when I didn't have my own.  One of the best gifts she has given me was that opportunity to be present for the births of Carsen and Jake.  She let me invade ultrasounds, her amnio and I even cried more than she did when the boys made their way into this world.


Richelle is the first person I want to call when something good or something bad happens.  I trust her and I value her opinion...she completes my sentences when I can't remember what I was even talking about.  We talk a dozen times a day...sometimes for seconds...others for hours.  We can talk about nothing...or everything.


She was my main wedding planner...most of the planning didn't even need me.  She knows me well enough to know what I will love and what I will hate.


She was the one who I shared all my infertility crapola with.  Other than Mike, she was the one I whined to, debated with, repeated myself with...over and over.


Richelle is the one person who knows my hopes, my dreams, my fears...she knows how to handle me.  How to take me.  How to calm me down.  I swear she is a part of me.


When airline tickets go on sale, my first thought is her first thought- Where can us girls go for a quick weekend!?  (my thought tied for first is where can I go with my husband...I promise it is usually a tie for my #1 thought. :) )  


Our annual Disneyland trips are my favorite part of the year.  Really, any weekend we get away is more fun than I can explain.  We laugh the entire time...we eat a lot, we learn new things together...we just have fun together relaxing away from reality.


When we get an opportunity to do a family vacation together...we are all over it.  Even when we are accused of being codependent...as a bad thing, we don't care.


How could it be a bad thing?


She is the one I hope to be like...she is tough on her boys, but she is so loving and tender.  She is stronger and handles more than anyone I know.  She is the most selfless person I have ever met...she is the hardest worker I've ever known.  


Throughout my pregnancy trials, she has been the first one to drop anything and everything to make sure I am cared for.  I never go hungry.  I am never left alone...all that needs to be said is that I need her and she is here.  Honestly, I usually don't have to say anything.


I am blessed.