Lost and Found
Marie and I… well, we were sisters. We fought, we laughed, we cried. I was her best friend her entire life and she became mine the second she was born. When I got engaged to my husband, though, the fighting between Marie and me was constant. She told me my fiancé was no good. She found something wrong with every wedding dress I tried on in the boutique. She even ended up storming out and didn’t come home for a day or two after. As the wedding got closer, I wanted to ask her to be my maid of honor, but she seemed to be turning into a different person.
One day, at just barely 18 years old, she announced to our family that she would be moving out to live with her boyfriend. That was the final straw in my mind. I confronted her about the changes I had noticed in her, but she denied them. I told her if she left, she was no longer invited to the wedding. Some harsh things were said that night. Marie left, and I didn’t speak to her anymore after that. The wedding happened and Marie didn’t attend. From what I heard through mutual friends, she was not doing well. Her boyfriend had lost his job and the pressure to pay the rent was then placed on her and her waitressing.
Two and a half years later, I was having a baby. I had not spoken to Marie at all—not even on birthdays or Christmases. It was breaking my heart to not have her there with me.
The night we got home from the hospital, there was a knock on the door. It was Marie, thin and exhausted. We collapsed into tears, hugs, and apologies.
“Can I hold her?” she asked.
From then on, Marie loved Sam more than anything. She left her boyfriend, moved back in with the family, and got her life on track. I am happy and proud to call her the godmother of my daughter, and the best friend I could ever ask for.
Story by Kelly McGarry