"my friends are my estate." -emily dickinson

august 2009

Sororities are laughable, I understand that, what with their parties and binge drinkers and stereotypes and pearls and houses full of gossip. But at their core, they do stand for great things: philanthropic service, friendship, academic dedication, leadership.

The sorority I joined in the fall of 2004 is not different from the others, really; it is dedicated to the same things. Though parts of my time as an “active” seemed silly, and I absolutely detested some of the songs we were forced to sing, I found some of the richest friendships I’ve ever known, and they continue to bless my life today.

[As a side note, experiences with my sorority and positions on my resume helped me land an internship at the White House my senior year, as well as provided me with a steady closet full of colored t-shirts and the constant need to be on the lookout for a fun date.]

The sorority to which I pledged at TCU, and later affiliated with at Texas A&M, often labels themselves as “classy.” (I will acknowledge that many of our members and our events do not always give off the best image of “classy,” but for today’s purpose we will overlook that as something out of my control.)

Webster says classic is “serving as a standard of excellence, of recognized value.” My first night as a new member of my sorority in Fort Worth, I met a girl who could not be more “classic.” Her clothes, her personality, her outlook on life, the way she carries herself: classic.
If they sold friends at a cute little boutique, I know this girl would fly off the racks. She is thoughtful, loyal, kind, patient, an excellent listener, and wise beyond her years. She has been this way since I met her seven years ago. Seven years ago, could it really have been that long? You see, she is one of those rare finds that after months of life in different cities, you can pick up right where you left and not even notice.

She is a loving aunt to numerous nieces and nephews. She is the youngest of six daughters, and to be honest, I have lost count exactly how many nieces and nephews she has. When we first became friends, I was proud of myself just for knowing all five of her sisters’ names in chronological order.

TCU ended up not being the best place for me, for whatever reason I was meant to break my father’s heart and become a loud, obnoxious, proud Aggie. But my days at TCU were brightened by this friend, and all of my best memories from there involve her. Whether it was escorting a fellow sorority member up the stairs of our dorm as she projected blue margaritas everywhere, or racing each other down the stairs and me always winding up injured, or leaving each other notes in our dorm rooms, or football games or chasing my brother my down or just dinner and an episode of friends, she was my constant. She was my favorite. And, anyone who could put up with me for as long as she has deserves some sort of medal.

This sorority sister of mine is a kind of girl you’d like your daughter to find to be friends with: she is not judgmental, she is not flashy, she decorates her home and closet with impeccable taste, she never fails to ask about others before she talks about herself.

I’ve probably rambled on long enough, but one thing I’ve learned in these “adult” years post-college is that we cannot be too appreciative of the blessings in our life. They are not deserved, as is this friendship not deserved. This friend wrote me several notes or emails over the past two years of teaching, saying how proud she was of me and other kind thoughts. She’s put up with my crazy schedule and continues to see me on a regular basis.

She easily could have written me off her list six years ago after I transferred to that country little town called College Station, Texas. But she has not, and I remain proud to call her friend.

Editor’s note: I do not want to give off the impression this lady is perfect. She is not, and it must be noted that you CANNOT rush her. Just don't even try.