When I was in kindergarten, I lined up with all my other classmates. I covered up each of my eyes as I read unrelated letters on a piece of paper taped to the wall.
Apparently I did something wrong because before I even knew what was going on, my mom was scheduling an eye doctor appointment for me.
I hid under my bed, refusing to go to the doctor. I was not going to get glasses. I didn’t even understand why I needed them, but my sweet mom dragged me unhappily into the eye office anyway. She helped me pick out brown wire-rim glasses, perfect for a little 5-year-old girl.
With my new glasses sliding down the bridge of my nose, I walked into class and surveyed my classmates with new eyes. And then I noticed something I had never noticed before.
A little boy with sandy brown hair and a plaid flannel shirt was wearing glasses too.
For some reason, our shared crappy vision made Trevor and I the best of friends. After that, we hardly went a day without talking to each other. He knew almost everything there was to know about me and I knew just as much about him.
We spent long summers playing house and racing cars and learning to bake cookies by ourselves. Eventually we got learner’s permits and driver’s licenses and went on countless dates together.
Trevor was there for me in hard times and in easy times. He shared all my marvelous memories with me. That bond we had made as little kindergarteners was unbreakable.
In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, young men between the ages of 18-19 are encouraged to serve missions. The young men often leave behind friends and family.
Trevor was ready to serve his mission and I knew how excited he was. His light was inextinguishable. I knew that he would be one of the best missionaries God had ever had.
He was called to serve in the Philippines San Pablo mission, and a month after we graduated high school he left to begin his two-year journey. A lot changed when Trevor left. I knew that he was doing the right thing and that he was meant to be in the Philippines, but it didn’t make missing him any easier.
Soon after he left, I learned a little bit about missing someone. I’m certain many of you have had to send your best friends away, whether it be to school or on a mission. Perhaps you were the one that had to leave.
Missing your best friend is incredibly hard, but I’ve learned that if you keep a couple things in mind, your time apart can bring blessings instead of heartache.
The first thing I realized was that time was moving forward. No matter what, seconds were always turning into minutes, and they would eventually turn into days and weeks and months.
One day when I was missing Trevor more than usual, my mom made a beautiful point. He was away learning and growing and having all these life-changing experiences. He was progressing and she reminded me that these two years apart would be a wonderful growing time for me too, if I let them.
If you are missing your best friend, find some way you can grow. Dive into something that has always interested you or try something new. Busy your mind with something else. Think of how much fun it will be to let your best friend know of the progress you are making.
Finally, it is vital to remember that, “what goes up must come down.” In other words, your best friend left, yes, but they will always come back. Very few things are permanent these days. It’s only a matter of time before you and your best friend are together again.