Oil and water, that’s us, I thought when I met Teri 20 years ago.
She was outspoken. I’m reserved. Teri didn’t wear makeup; I wouldn’t leave home without it.
Back in the day, Teri loved hitting the road on her Harley. I preferred curling up with a good book. We’re just so different, I thought.
Until I went through a devastating divorce. I passed the days in a fog, sobbing for hours when I got home from work. Friends and family called, worried.
A phone call wasn’t enough for Teri. One day she strode into my office. “You need to have some fun,” she said. “I’m taking you to a Garth Brooks concert this weekend.”
“I can’t,” I protested. “I’m not ready to go out.” But Teri wouldn’t take no for an answer.
We had a blast at the concert! For the first time in ages, I laughed and felt like life could go on. Soon Teri and I were going to more concerts, San Diego Chargers football games, church volunteer projects.
One day I gave Teri a card. “Thank you for never giving up on me,” I wrote.
Slowly I climbed out of that terrible darkness, in large part because of Teri, who boldly showed me that life is full of joys—especially our friendship.
