"She decided to free herself, dance in the wind, create a new language. And birds fluttered around her, writing "yes" in the sky".
-Monique Duval
I have this friend who taught me a clapping song when we were ten. She doesn't remember it but I do and it was in Spanish and I thought she was super cool at the time.
That same friend would wrap me in her arms years later when I was depressed and lonely and confused. She understood when I canceled plans and drove hours and did things quite sporadically. She never judged me or got annoyed with my craziness.
When we were taking a dance class in high school, we used to lay on our backs with our legs straight up in the air, against a wall and sing rap songs, making our feet dance and laughing until it hurt. Once I mentioned how much I loved the piggy bank I had gotten from Mexico but I was sad that I had had to break out the bottom. Next thing I knew, she had another one for me. Magic. I still have both of them, in fact I can reach out and touch them right now.
Another time we drove down to the border of Texas and Mexico to pilgrimage to a shrine that held a deep and special place in her heart. Hours of conversation that I won't forget. Killing about a million monarch butterflies accidentally. Asking for aqua and getting limonada. Border guards. Holy water.
She's the kind of friend that you can go weeks or even months without talking to and then once you start again, it's like nothing has changed. Her home is always open to me and mine is always open to her. She's one of my sister-friends that will never ever leave my heart. Kindred. My own little free-spirited love bug buddy.
And there's something else you should know about her. She's incredibly determined and smart. She's the first in her ENTIRE family to graduate college. She wanted something so she did it. That's my friend. That's my Anahi.
Dearest Anahi, if you're reading this, I want you to know how much I love you.
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