Countdown to 30: Day 8

I have been going to Carver Baptist Center in New Orleans for eight years, and, as anyone who has known me for any length of time or has been to my office to see the pictures everywhere (or has read this series), there is a particular relationship that has meant more to me than probably any other friendship in my life. Of course I am talking about my boy, Birdie.

The funny thing about Birdie is that I do not remember meeting him. I am not even sure that he remembers meeting me. I do know that the second spring break that our college group went to the Center in 2002, he and his cousin were locked out of the house accidentally and were asleep on one of the couches downstairs when we arrived. I do not remember that, but he does. I even have a picture or two from that trip where you can see him in the background, but I do not think that I talked to him or knew who he was at that point. When I went back that summer for the month of July, we started getting close. In fact it was nothing unusual for me to have Birdie, Malcolm and Fred with me going everywhere. Plus Birdie was responsible for watching his nephew Coy who was almost two at the time, which meant that I watched Coy while Birdie played basketball.

We really started to click in 2003. Birdie got himself into some minor trouble while on an outing with the missionary at the Center. I noticed tension between the two, so I put extra effort that week into spending time with Birdie. He went everywhere with me (except the beach - he was temporarily banned from Center activities), and I played basketball with him for hours (resulting in a purple - yes purple - sunburn that made him concerned enough to stop the game and make me go inside to cool off and down a ton of water). I literally tortured him to make him tell me what he had done to get into trouble. I think I may have locked him in a room (favorite tactic of mine with the kids) and grilled him continuously for half a day before he revealed what he had done. Instead of instantly lecturing him, I acted completely out of character and told him I was proud of him for telling me himself instead of waiting until someone else told me. The lecture came later in the form of a very long letter that I sent to him and that he actually read and remembers to this day. From that point forward, there was no way to convince either one of us that we were not brother and sister, although he still didn't like for me to hug him in front of friends.

The dislike of public hugging went out the window in 2005 with Katrina hitting. As soon as I saw him the first time after Katrina, I received one of the biggest hugs, and in front of his whole family, that I think I have ever received from Birdie. Katrina is also when his mother started claiming me as her other daughter and his siblings started calling me their white sister. I became part of the extended family during that time, and I think that quite a few members of his extended family still claim me today. Our relationship had a strange period during 2006 and 2007 because I knew he was doing things he should not be doing, but I was still loving on my little brother. Plus he was arrested, and I had to lecture him. I lectured him on the phone. I lectured him in person. I lectured him over the phone some more. He did not seem to be listening, and I was frustrated. 2007 ended up being a year when I could only make one trip to New Orleans in the spring, and I actually went over a year without seeing him. I am not sure how I ever survived that long!

In January 2008, one of Birdie's good friends was shot and killed. Fortunately Birdie was not at the scene that night, although I do not think that he sees it that way. When I found out about it, I procrastinated in calling Birdie because I did not know how to deal with things like that over the phone, and I knew I could not make it down there to see him in person to go to the funeral. On the morning of the funeral, I sent him a text message to let him know I was thinking about him (cowardly, I know!), and soon my phone was ringing. It was so good to hear his voice on the other end, but I was glad I did not contact him earlier or my butt would have been driving to New Orleans! I had no idea that I would have my chance to be there for him after the death of a friend just a few months later. All I knew as I hung up is that I loved that kid and I had to see him soon.

Soon did not come soon enough. New Orleans has this cool website where you can follow court dates of those awaiting trial, and I knew he had a trial date coming up. I knew I wanted to be there for him for his trial date, so I kept up with it. It kept getting pushed, but finally a date was set for April 15. I called his sister (because he did not return my call) to find out if it was set to go, and I found out that his family knew nothing about the date coming up. Nice. Soon he was on the phone with me telling me that I did not have to come, but I had to be there. I got in on the Monday night before his trial on Tuesday. I went to see him not long after getting in and seeing him that night I knew that I could not go a year without seeing him again. The trial date was continued (of course!), but I met his lawyer and we exchanged contact information so that the trial could be scheduled at a time I could go. I spent the rest of my time in New Orleans hanging out with him and the other kids. Birdie and I had many good conversations that week, and I was able to leave him on Thursday knowing I would see him in a month.

The call came as I was about halfway home that Thursday. Guy had been shot and killed. I had seen him about three hours before the call when I was saying bye to Birdie. Without being told, I knew Birdie had been there this time. I sent him a text to let him know I was on my way back, but I could not call him. He would not want to talk at that point anyway. I spent quite a bit of time with him the next few days, although it was not enough for me. I do not think our friendship would have been the same if I did not turn back that day. However, that is a story for another day.

I did go in for the trial. I also went in for the birth of his baby boy. I went in a few weeks before the birth of the baby so that he could have one last weekend all about him instead of the baby. I used to kid him that the baby would replace him as my boy once the baby was born, but instead it has made us closer. I love my little guy, but his daddy still has that special place in my heart! Birdie loves to watch me spoil little guy, and I love to watch him being a daddy. We have talked about the gospel many times, and I am convinced of Birdie's salvation even though he struggles with some serious sins. My friendship with Birdie has taught us both about Prov. 17:17: A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. We have been there for each other during the death of a friend and the aftermath of Katrina. He has been there for me when I almost passed out in a hospital. I have been there for him during a trial and the birth of his child. We both have loved unconditionally. It is a friendship that will continue throughout eternity, but is a little piece of heaven on earth. I love my baby brother!