Thanksgiving has to be my favorite time of year. Not only is it a few days after my birthday, but I think that Thanksgiving is one of the most important holidays we recognize. It’s a time of year that those things we take for granted – like love, friendship, peace within our families and success – have a chance to be in the front of our minds.
It’s a time of reflection and rememberance more so than any other holiday. You don’t buy presents for Thanksgiving. You don’t hunt eggs. You don’t set off fireworks. It’s all about giving thanks. Thanksgiving says simply think about all the great things in your life and say thanks – say thanks to whomever, whatever you deem worthy.
I always sit back around Thanksgiving and pick one thing out of my life to be the most thankful for. In my case, usually it’s one person in my life that has made an impact on me that will never be forgotten. I then take Thanksgiving to the next level by taking the initiative and effort to tell that person just what they mean to my existence. This year, I have chosen Lacy Whitson to be most thankful for.
Lacy has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She gives me hope, helps me realize my dreams, keeps me laughing, reminds me of my long-lost faith and has filled my life with so many precious memories that can’t be bought with all the money in the world.
It started in grammar school, I think, when our county formed a middle school. In sixth grade, we became inseparable.
When you saw me, you saw Lacy either a few steps behind, a few steps in front or right by my side. It’s still like that to this day. We compliment each other well. She is the beauty and I am the brains. She is the heart and I am the head. She is the optimist and I am the cynical pessimist.
I remember one year for the Thanksgiving assembly at Unicoi County High School, our drama class prepared a skit. Lacy and I portrayed the twins. Never mind that the play was a real tear-jerker, everyone laughed at the implication that Lacy and I could actually be twins because we don’t look anything alike. She is tall and skinny and I am short and chubby. I’ll never forget the entire student body laughing at us.
The play went on and sure enough there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Then, the spotlight was to go down and I was supposed to step out in front and sing accapella “O Holy Night.” I opened my mouth, bearly holding back the tears myself, and sang “) Holy Night the Stars are shitely brining.” It was one of the most embarrassing things I have ever done in my life and you know what Lacy said?
“It’s cool Marianne you took the edge off. Everyone was about to cry and you made them laugh. It’s always good to make people laugh.”
I love her for that to this day.
That’s just one example of her impact on me.
Lacy has this laugh that sucks you right into a fit of hysterics. When Lacy get tickled, it’s hard not to laugh with her, or at least just laugh because you can’t figure out why she’s laughing in the first place. It’s a cackle of sorts and starts off slow then rises to a full-blown horse laugh. She loves humor and can often be seen wearing her “I’m happy just because I am alive” smile. She brings out warmth in people.
Lacy is always goofing around. Our senior year, we were, again, at drama rehearsals backstage waiting for our cues to step into the spotlight. We were being typical teenagers, laughing and cutting up. Lacy grabbed a stick that had a body-poof looking thing stuck to the end of it. She started twirling it like a baton and acting like a cheerleader. I don’t know what possessed her, but she threw that thing straight up, made a little twirl and it fell perfectly into her hand. Her facial expression was beyond description. It was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen in my entire life. It was so funny Lacy peed on herself. I swear.
Sometimes, when something really funny happens, Lacy and I dust off that old memory and have another good laugh out of it.
When bad news happens, Lacy is always the one who tells me. My mother says it’s because she knows I won’t try to kill the messenger if the messenger is Lacy.
When the first of our many friends who have died was killed, Lacy was at my house at 6 a.m. with the news. Devestated, we sat on my bed and pondered the meaning of life while trying to grip the reality of the situation. Lacy and I got through the funeral together and became stronger.
Our friendship hasn’t been all ice cream and puppies, though. We have had our moments. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about, but we threw down in the girl’s bathroom in the cafeteria one year. It had built to that, whatever the “it” was. We fought it out and instead of getting in trouble like all people who fight at school, we had the teachers sitting on the couch in the office crying with us. By that time, Lacy and I were in tears and I kept wondering how I could ever want to hurt someone I love and care so much about.
My high school years were all they were supposed to be because of Lacy Whitson. I wouldn’t have made it without her.
Now that we are no longer in high school, that friendship we began a long time ago has still remained pure and untainted by distance and absence. I call her at least three times a week even if I have nothing to say. She is still part of my family and I a part of hers.
I could write a novel just about the crazy things we have done and the many memories I have with her. Without her my life would be less happy and lonely. Plus, I really don’t know anyone else who tells me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth besides Lacy. When I am wrong, she tells me I am wrong.
When I am sad, she lets me wallow in my own sorrow for a while then quickly has me laughing again. Somehow, Lacy always sees the bright side of life. It’s one of the things I admire most about her.
I can tell Lacy anything. My deepest darkest secrets are buried in her mental filing cabinet for those times when I need to be reminded of my past mistakes or a chance gone by that I should have taken. In turn, I have secrets she has told me that will go to the grave with me.
Thanksgiving for me this year will be filled with family and reflection. And, I know that after the family feast of turkey and dressing, I’ll be doing something off the subject and I will turn to hear Lacy’s nickname coming from my Uncle Jeff’s mouth as she enters the house. I’ll know then Lacy is there to get away from her crazy family and save me from my own crazy family for a while. We’ll ride around and maybe drink a few beers to kill time and just do what best friends do on special occasions like Thanksgiving.
This year, I’m not taking our friendship for granted because I am too well aware that this world could end at any moment and in the blink of an eye my memories of Lacy could be only that – memories.

Author