Congratulations, Jill!
I was three years old when I attended my first Sunday School class. I was scared, but there was another little girl there, just as frightened-looking as I. I sat next to her and we held hands. From that day forward, we were inseparable whenever we were at Sunday School. As it turned out, we had baby sisters the same age, as well. Our mothers became fast friends, and that sealed the deal.
Jill and I played at each other's house. We, along with our sisters, created elaborate plots, wrote plays, drew pictures (to sell for twenty-five cents on our Sidewalk Art Sale), made friendship bracelets, threw ourselves onto the Slip 'n Slide, tried to kick our shoes up onto the garage roof while swinging as high as we could on my swingset, swam at the local pool, had sleepovers multiple times a month, made up jokes involving whoopie cushions, tried to learn to juggle, discovered the Simpsons, swapped sisters for a weekend, and had more adventures and good times than can be counted, tallied, or otherwise categorized.
Jill broke her arm the week before her seventh birthday by jumping off our fence. Her party was at the roller rink. She couldn't participate. Our families had garage sales together. We took road trip vacations through the Black Hills and Rocky Mountains, stayed in Estes Park, Colorado, and down to Hilton Head Island with their family. We've attended church with them. Jill and I went to Confirmation Camp for a week one summer, and on more than one weekend church retreat. Jill's mom was my Brownies leader, and taught us Princess Pat and a dozen other Girl Scouts songs.
Jill and I never went to school together, but we were always great friends. Our high schools were town rivals, but we joked through it all. She went with me to look at the University of Michigan, which I desperately wanted to attend, and she ended up going there when I realized I would never afford it.
I don't see Jill all that often, but I will always consider her one of my best friends. This is for the simple reason that when we do get together, it's as if we were never apart. We pick up right where we left off. For all the differences in our lives, we share just as much.
Jill just got engaged. Jill, my oldest friend in the world. Jill, the little girl I shared my fears with when I was three and afraid to be left alone. She's going to be married.
That's now, I think, seven of my friends getting married either this year or next. That's a lot.