Posts Tagged With: best friends

an unexpected gift

Sundance and I spent the afternoon together yesterday. We went to lunch, (Mexican, YUM!) went to get our hair done, (two cute new dos) and ran errands (to purchase ribbon at AC Moore).
We came back home and hung out while I made her some bows. YBW came home excited to see Sundance. (They were very close friends in elementary school.) There were hugs and kisses then he went into the other room. But the noises were not those of him emptying his pockets like he normally does. They were of metal banging and rustling plastic. Sundance and I looked at each other waiting for him to find the pressie I left on his chair.
He comes into the room with his hands behind his back. Then he presents us with the precious dollies we fell in love with when we went to say goodbye, Why Not?.

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Redhaired “Adele” for me and brunette “Jeanne” for Sundance.
(Yes, there was squealing!)

After Sundance left I took my dollie upstairs to our bedroom.
I thanked YBW again and told him it was kind of him to get both dollies. He told he almost gave me mine for Valentine’s day, but he’s glad he waited because the look on Sundance’s face made it all worth it.
What a sneaky bugger my husband is.
What a precious, kind man my husband is.

I was all smiles this morning when little Adele greeted me from my comfy chair.
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I picked her up and hugged her and started my day. Her face makes my heart so happy I can hardly stand it!
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Categories: love, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

for this is the recipe of love

I found this when I was going through my mother’s things.
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It’s my Grandaddy’s handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere.
I suspect it’s the toast he made at my parents wedding.
Now, my parents were an ill suited match, but they made me so I’m not going to complain. They were terribly unhappy together, and after my father left us, Mommie remained unhappy deep in her soul. Perhaps that unhappiness came to her when her mother died. I don’t know. I just know that it seemed to me that even though she would express real joy, she was always miserable down in her soul.

Grandaddy didn’t especially like my dad…but that could have been for any number of reasons.
My dad was only likable when he chose to be. Most times he was a right bastard. Of course, a childhood of abuse and a lifetime of hiding his sexual orientation contributed to that.

Grandaddy was a grumpy old thing. But he was helping to raise kids in his sixties and seventies. Oh! How I adored him. He was the first man I ever fell in love with. And quite possibly he was in love with me more than he had ever been with my mom. I think she knew it. I think she was jealous of that love. But, I don’t really care. That love was sacred and nothing will ever change that.

I’m being tangential as all get out…this post started out differently in my head…I’m going to try and make my way back to the reason I’m sharing this photo.

YBW and I have asked my niece, Girlie Thing, to read this at our wedding. Sundance was with me when I found the tiny envelope with Grandaddy’s writing. I knew then I wanted it to be a part of our wedding day.

As I go through the invitation and response lists, I realize my only blood family is Thing 1 and Thing 2. The family I made: Sundance and her babies, my darling friend in Arizona and her family, my friend and mentor, and my former husband’s little sister and her family, will be with me the day I wed the man I waited forty-four years to marry.
I have great sadness that Mommie never even met YBW. That my dad didn’t live long enough to be a part of this day, he adored YBW and our relationship.
My sadness about Grandaddy isn’t so much that he won’t know YBW or be at our wedding, it’s more that everyday missing him that resides deep in my heart.

All this said, I have wonderful people that I love who will celebrate with us on October 24. But with this tiny envelope, a bit of my parents and Grandaddy will be with me too. And that makes my heart happy.

Perhaps that’s the recipe of love…
The family from which you come mixed with the friends who become your family and a dollop of your own babies on top. I’ll mix these with YBW’s family. The one from which he came and his fraternity brothers who became his family and a dollop of his babies.

Whatever the recipe, I am chock-full of love. I’m grateful for those who taught me to love when I was a little girl. For those whom I befriended and taught me how to expand my love. For the man who showed me that love was something I never even imagined. And for the gifts of daughters who taught me new and awe-inspiring ways to love.

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standing in the rain, and waiting for the stream to settle

Today would have been my dad’s sixty-ninth birthday and I stood in the rain scattering his ashes in a place he loved to be.
I did this because his oldest and dearest friend came from Colorado to perform this act and he is the one who chose the date. He felt it was a good way to honor my dad, the anniversary of his birth. I’m not sure how I feel about this.
I did it because it was what my dad wanted, and he wanted his friend involved. I’d known this for years so I had plenty of time to prepare for it. They were cops together, I’ve know him since I was a teeny little thing, but you know how that goes, he’s close with my dad and I grow up and move on.
My heart wasn’t in it really, I was just going through the motions. But I’m OK with that because it wasn’t about me it was about my dad’s friend…and my dad. I am a good daughter.
I’m tired now it’s all over. It was cold and rainy which wasn’t physically comfy and it was emotionally exhausting. I want to get in the bathtub with my ipad for a bit of soaking and Netflix.

On the Thing 2 front, I finally had a good long conversation with my friend and mentor last night. She asked what my heart was telling me to do. I told her my gut said, make her come back, my heart is tired of fighting and my head pretty much wants the other two to get it together. She laughed. She reminded me I’m a “gut truster”. I agreed.
We talked a bit more and she told me I had been tromping back and forth in the stream and it was muddy and unclear, that perhaps I should sit by the stream and let the sediment fall to the bottom and wait for the water to clear. (Oh how I love this analogy!)
We talked a bit longer and she just wondered aloud where I was. I took a deep breath and said: I’m going to let it go and leave her where she is.
I feel good about that decision because instead of focusing on her, I decided to focus on me. I’m going crazy trying to decide what to do what’s best for her life and completely ignoring what’s best for my own.

This morning I had the most freeing thought.
I’m so worried about Thing 2’s future but I didn’t take into consideration that teenagers live in the now. So if she’s sad, lonely and uncomfortable here in this home, how successful can her future be?
I know her dad won’t hold her accountable, but perhaps she really can live happily in the now and STILL have a relatively successful future.
And that might be as positive as I’ll ever feel about it.
I lived in that horrible situation for years, trapped, scared and feeling unsafe. It hurt me physically and emotionally. If she FEELS safe, etc. then isn’t that actually “what’s best” for her?
I believe she stands a better chance here but I’m only going to focus on me and my future.
She’ll sort it out eventually. I believe I’ve done a good enough job raising her to have that faith.

And that’s how this portion of the story ends.
She will be responsible for ‘cleaning up her own mess’ and building her future and I’ll focus on my own future and just love her.

Categories: death, loss, love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I’m going to need for you to get it together!

The month of May was absolute crap. My favorite of all the months…my birthday birthday month…absolute crap. Not that I want a “do-over” or anything…more along the lines of telling May 2014 to F.R.O.

That said, there was a good part of May…Things 1 and 2 were with me at the same time for the first time in well over a year. I was so glad to have them with me. Thing 2 for such a long time and Thing 1 when we needed to be with the other most.

Now my two Things have gone on…Thing 1 back on the road with N a week ago Wednesday. Thing 2 left on Friday home to her dad’s to celebrate all the summer birthdays of her friends.
Thing C and Thing G left Friday for their week at home with mom and it’s just YBW and me.

Know what we did?
No! Naughties!

We slept. We slept a LOT! I knew how exhausted I was, but the amount of time I spent sleeping this weekend really put it into perspective.

I could not have survived the last month without the love and support of my family and friends, especially Sundance and YBW.
Sundance supplied the xanax and sass I desperately needed. My love for her knows no bounds and my life would be less if she were not a part of it.
I think YBW was just as exhausted as I was, but never wavered, he was so strong for me. Bless him, that precious man I love.

It’s June now. Time to get it together. I’m chock full of things to accomplish this month, for “the estate”, for my classroom school, for my own school, for my family, and for me.
I am filled with willingness…desire, not so much. But I learned a long time ago, “feelings follow actions” so I’m going to act as though I’m getting it together and soon after I’ll feel like I actually am.
As I say to my little students, “I’m going to need for you to get it together.”
Getting it together is going to feel good.

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this sucks

This has quite possibly been the longest week of my life, and I am absolutely exhausted.

The business of death is peculiar. I did all that business this week and now I’m in a holding pattern. They haven’t been able to cremate the body because the PCP hasn’t signed the death certificate. We can’t have the memorial service until May 24 because the church is booked both this weekend and next. Hurry up and wait…me no likey.

Thing 2 was supposed to arrive yesterday afternoon but was violently ill in the car on the way to the train station yesterday morning. (Is it wrong I got a bit of sick pleasure she barfed in her dad’s car?) Her dad and I are meeting at the half way point on Sunday. At least she and I will be together on a crazy road trip for mother’s day and she’ll be here for my birthday the next day. She and Girlie Thing and Sundance and I are going to get pedicures and out to lunch on my birthday, I’m very happy about that.

Sundance and I ate lunch at the delicious Greek place yesterday instead of going together to the train station to get Thing 2. When she left me at home, I thanked her for babysitting me. I feel like she and YBW have been babysitting me quite a bit.

YBW has been so patient with me and so kind and loving, he went with me to sign the autopsy and cremation papers Monday, he chose not to see Daddie’s body, that was something I did all by myself.
We went to get things we needed from the safety deposit box at the bank and then to my dad’s house to try and find his wallet. I packed up perishable foodstuff and YBW said: It feels like we’re stealing.
I said: It all belongs to me now so we’re not stealing, but it sucks.

I’ve said that so much this past week. It sucks. Those words cannot begin to convey the meaning of the way I feel, but they’re the words that seem most appropriate.

There are moments I feel numb and moments I feel sad and moments I feel almost normal. Today is a numb and sad all mixed together kind of day.

Normal will come back to roost. In the meantime it really just sucks.

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a good daughter

I’ve been sitting in hospital all day waiting…waiting…waiting…
(Perhaps I’ve mentioned patience is not my most marked characteristic?)

I’m waiting because that’s what good daughters do. A good daughter waits while her dad has his hip replaced.
I am a good daughter.

A good daughter also identifies her dad’s body for the sheriff’s department before they can remove it from his home.
I am a good daughter.

I started this post on Tuesday while sitting in hospital…I came back to it Sunday after the entire world changed.

My dad was found dead in his bed Friday morning by the home health physical therapist that came to do his initial intake after he came home from hospital. When I got there, she was long gone but the sheriff deputies were waiting for me.
When I asked if I could see him the first response was to ask if I really wanted to see him and then they told me I wasn’t allowed to touch anything.
(My hackles immediately go up, I’m thinking: that’s my Daddie I’ll touch him if I damn well please.)
They tell me they have to stand in the doorway and watch me to make sure I don’t disturb anything. (Oh, I’m going to punch somebody in their mouth before this is over.)
The older sheriff’s deputy, who actually knew my dad, says: it’s OK sweetie, you can touch him.

What I wanted to do was crawl into bed with him and lie there for a little while before they took him away…but I was afraid that would make the deputies poop their pants. I touched his hand and leaned over and lay my head on his chest for a moment and then  stood up, looked at him, whispered: oh, Daddie, then I left the room and didn’t go back in until I was finally alone in the house.

I cannot express how grateful I am that I had that teeny moment with him. I was able to see that he didn’t suffer, that he looked peaceful…
I have never felt less like a grown up than I did on Friday, but I’ve never done more grown up things than I did on Friday.

I don’t know what I would have done without Sundance or YBW on Friday.
Poor YBW…I called him when I got the call and he was unavailable…my plan was to leave a message that sounded something like: Please call me when you get a chance.
When I heard his voice on the outgoing message, I completely lost it and screeched: My dad died! Please call me back!
Sundance and I were texting back and forth before I got the call…so when I couldn’t get YBW I called her, when she didn’t answer…I texted: Please answer the phone please.
Before I could call her again, she called me and what followed was chaos.

Thing 2 said: Oh Mommy, I wish I could hug you. I told her: I will get to hug you next week when you get here. (She’s coming for my birthday.)
Thing 1 was beside herself with grief and I couldn’t hold her.
Thing G was so kind to me, he never stopped touching me Friday night, with little pats on my arm or leg or back, and so many hugs. His kindness was truly overwhelming. That sweet little boy took such good care of me when I needed to hold my own babies, he’s my baby too now. Thing 1 was so happy Thing G was taking such good care of her mommy, she told me to please thank him and give him big hugs for her.

I go tomorrow to sign the papers for a private autopsy to determine cause of death and then must decide whether or not to pursue legal action…I am not that girl.
I will also be able to spend a little more time with my Daddie’s body.
My God, I’m exhausted.

I am now an orphan…but I’m still a good daughter.

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music that moves me

I’ve been thinking about music today…how it moves and shapes us…individually and as a society.
Specifically, how it moves me.

When Things 1 and 2 were little, there was always music playing in our home, anything from showtunes to classic rock, (Luckily they were too little to understand how inappropriate AC DC lyrics are for children.) blues to classical. When they got a little older, they began influencing what got played, for Thing 1 it was Spice Girls, then she discovered Blondie after which she moved into Nirvana and Eminem. Her musical tastes are as eclectic as all get out, if you went through her itunes you’d find everything from ‘screamo’ to the Music Man Soundtrack. Thing 2 loved the Go Go’s and Talking Heads, then she shifted into really alternative stuff…she often talks about how she wishes her life was a movie so it could be one musical montage after another using any and every type of music she deems appropriate. (Quite honestly, of all the people I know, Thing 2’s life as a musical montage would be something I’d love to watch.)

Once I began to think of how music has shaped my life, has moved me, has gotten its hooks deep into me, I began to create a sort of list of albums that have heavily influenced me. (The List Lady strikes again.)
I feel the need to point out these are not my “favorite records” but ones that shaped or changed me in some significant way.
They’re in particular no order, just listed as they came to me…some I’ll talk about why, some you’re just going to have to go with me on.

Little Creatures ~ Talking Heads
This is the first time I remember buying my own album…everything up to that point had been bought for me as gifts or me asking for it to be picked up with my babysitting money when Mommie was out. God, I wore out this record. David Byrne is a megalomaniac, but because he’s so brilliant, I guess it’s OK. As She Was reminds me so of Thing 1 when she was just beginning to blossom.

Disraeli Gears ~ Cream
Because I dated a bassist in high school (he would probably prefer the term ‘bass man’) you know I can still sing every bass line from every Cream song? It’s funny to me what sticks with you. My God, Jack and Eric and Ginger are absolute perfection! I love this band second only to Zeppelin.

Led Zeppelin III ~ Led Zeppelin
It’s hard to pick the favorite of the favorite, but as much as I love Houses of the Holy, I think Zep III changed me more, changed my point of view somehow.
The softer side of the Hammer of the Gods.

Defenders of the Faith ~ Judas Priest
I will say only one thing about this album…we all have a past.

London Calling ~ The Clash
What I love about Joe is (was) his ability to continue to break out and do new things, this record is absolute proof of that! They were evolving musically and it showed. I believe this album is an absolute staple in any musical library.

The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars~David Bowie
I played this record until my ears bled. I remember jumping on the bed at camp at Orkeny Springs singing Hold onto Yourself with a girl called Angie at the top of my lungs. The later released CD has bonus tracks on it…and they’re perfect! This album still moves me when I hear something from it today.

Strong Persuader ~ Robert Cray Band
I LOVE every single song on this album. It’s bluesy but also kind of rocks…this guy has women issues. I love it! He also doesn’t take himself too seriously. Did you know Robert Cray taught his friend Eric Clapton how to bend a string? Yep, during the recording of Clapton’s Journeyman album.

Seven and the Ragged Tiger ~ Duran Duran
Rio is probably my favorite D2 album, but I remember being more moved by this one when it came out and even today, when I hear something from it, it gets me…right in the pit of my belly.

Pyromania ~ Def Leppard
One word explains why this one is on the list: my little brother (Well I guess that’s three, but you get the point.)

The Libertines ~ The Libertines
I adore Pete Doherty, all smacked out and all cleaned up. He’s raw and beautiful and the combination of Pete and Carl Barat is truly exceptional. This album is a painful realization of the destruction of a band, but it’s so great. What became of the likely lads, indeed? (Pete’s got a new band-Babyshambles and I love them too! Shotter’s Nation gets a special little shout out here.) 

Alternative to Love ~ Brendan Benson
This is what pop music was intended to be. He writes beautiful lyrics and the music is catchy. I love this album…it’s a “go to” in my car.

Way to Blue: an Introduction to Nick Drake ~ Nick Drake
What can I say? This man was taken from us too soon. Pink Moon. My GOD! Beautiful. Heartfelt. Nick wrote and sang from his soul and this is a lovely compilation of his work.

Dream into Action ~ Howard Jones
I used to love Howard so much! This is another record I wore out. I love when I’ll randomly hear one of these songs when I’m out somewhere…usually in the grocery store.

Slowhand ~ Eric Clapton
Two words: The Core.
This album is perfect from start to finish. I love every single song on it! They scrawled “Clapton is God” throughout the London Underground for a reason, people.

West Side Story Soundtrack
I love this play, I love the music, the beginning of America is one of my all-time favorite bits of lyrics ever, the dance at the gym, the mambo and the little “snapping” song…Something’s Coming is perfect and I Feel Pretty is just too cute for words! When you’re a Jet you’re a Jet all the way. (Till my last dyin’ day.)

Other People’s Lives~Ray Davies
I’m a Kinks girl without a doubt, actually, the first concert I ever saw was the Kinks. Ray is one of the most beautiful song writers and this is his first solo album in his whole 40(ish) year career. It’s GREAT! He’s still got it. This is another “go to” for me in the car…if it were a record I’d have worn it out by now.

13 Tales of Love and Revenge ~ The Pierces
These sisters from Alabama are absolutely amazing! I love the way they write, the way they sound…I love the darkness that permeates this album. And the ennui…and the hopefulness…and the bitterness…and the love.
It got me through a really bad break-up, but I still love to listen to it now, all these years later.

Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars ~ Edie Brickell and New Bohemians
This album absolutely defines a time in my life, yet I find it transcends it too. I love these songs now as I did then, and it’s not just the nostalgia.
Sundance and I saw her at the Birchmere in 2004…she borrowed a ballcap from a guy in the audience to keep her hair out of her face with jokes of lice and made up a little scat about the vinyl checkered tablecloths. Sassy thing.

Billy Idol ~ Billy Idol
Billy FOREVER!
Love Billy. Love this album. Generation X, they tried so hard to be bad ass like the Pistols and just couldn’t cut it…Billy did better on his own. This album is perfection! From Come On, Come On all the way to Dancing with Myself. I turned Thing 2 onto Billy.
Saw him with Sundance in Richmond in September of 2003, we raced home in front of hurricane Isabel. He’s got so much energy and gives every bit of himself.

The Pretty Reckless ~ Light Me Up
Taylor Momsen, the girl I loved to hate as “Little J” on Gossip Girl is the girl I love to hear in this band! Thing C actually turned me on to them. This album got me through a horrifically tough time with Thing 1, I listened to it all day every day. Thing 2 loves them too, and Thing C and I saw them in concert in the fall and she was wearing proper clothes not vintage lingerie.(Part of me was disappointed, I love vintage clothes…even undergarments.)

I’ve most likely forgotten something…and I’m actually considering albums that quite possibly could be added to this list…but only for the love or nostalgia…though that isn’t really what I’m trying to do here.

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(love can be both) right-way-round and upside down

I taught a lesson plan earlier this week from a book called ‘Henry and Amy (right-way-round and upside down)’.

henry and amy

This is a book about friendship, specifically a friendship of opposites attracting and helping each other see the beauty of right-way-round as well as upside down.
I used this book in my month-long lesson plan revolving around manners, friendship, and being helpful. We’ve been discussing “good manners”, you know, please and thank you and as one of my precious friends points out, I’m sorry. I’m not as big a fan of I’m sorry…but I’m working with what I’ve got.
We’ve also been discussing helpful hands and feet…did you know helpful hands hold doors for friends or helpful feet don’t kick books?
My little friends do! It’s been a fun and interesting process and I think they’re finally starting to really understand because our director held the door for us this afternoon as we went outside to the playground and one friend said, “Look! Miss Brynn has helpful hands!” And then I heard a chorus of “thank you(s)” even from one little dude who was so busy thanking her he walked into the doorjamb.

‘Henry and Amy’ was one of Thing 2’s favorite books when she was a little girl, she and I would read it over and over with hugs and giggles.
Oh how I wanted to call her when I got home to tell her all about it…but I didn’t.
I’m being respectful of her feelings. I’m acting upon her request.
Golly it was hard. I wanted to share that day with her in ways I don’t even yet understand and I honestly believe she would have loved it.

But here’s the thing: it didn’t hurt.
Yes I was sad, but the memories of Thing 2 and ‘Henry and Amy’ were happy. They moved me into my higher brain…where I was safe and happily swimming around in memories of my sweet little girl.

It was a great day!
It was a great lesson plan.
The activity that followed reading the book and our discussion was spectacular, and when we met again to read the book after the project was finished, my little friends were invested in ‘Henry and Amy’ and they’re beginning to understand the value of helpful friends.

And one day…one day…when she’s ready, I will be happy to share the experience of this day with Thing 2.

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6 teenagers and a hammer

I just told a 17 year old girl, “you need to settle down with that hammer, young lady.” and six teenagers burst out laughing.

Kelly's hammer

This is a foam hammer that has been covered in duct tape “so it will hurt more”. The hammer was being used to…well…hammer knees. (Which was actually rather amusing.)

Thing 2 and five of her friends are hanging out, they were playing Risk when I rolled in, now they’ve moved on to a game called Resistance.
I cannot describe the entertainment value! Apparently there is a “game” they play…when someone belches everyone must say a color, the last one to speak must make a “sex noise”…I am HOWLING at what these kids think sex noises sound like!!

They’ve settled into their game and there is less belching and color shouting going on…I’m listening (though not “creeping”) to them talk about the game and it actually sounds quite interesting…I’m going to drink a beer(s) and try to write a paper (which might look a bit more like me watching Sherlock for the fourth time)   

This is one of my favorite Friday nights in a long while.

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Butch and Sundance

butch and sundance

I suspect there are millions of people on this planet who can say the following sentence with absolute conviction.
I have a best friend.
So what makes it any different when I say it?  Well, of course it’s because I have an exceptional best friend.
Yes, I am fully aware that we who claim to have a best friend believe we have an exceptional best friend. . .isn’t that kind of the point?  I mean look at the adjective before the word friend. . .best.
But what happens when you put the word friend next to this word best?
The meaning may be changing a little, no?  Tweaking just a bit here or there. . .because I imagine for each one of us that word best takes on a whole new meaning when we apply it to our own friend.  And these friends could be any shape or size, male or female…some people might even tell you their pet is their best friend, but for me, that is not the case.A best friend, no matter who or what they are and where or when they enter your life, is nothing less than a gift from the gods. That one person in your life you are absolutely capable of living without, but would never choose to. That one person who knows your foibles and graces, all your deep dark secrets, what you look like when you’re heartbroken or so very manically happy. That one person who if had been born your sibling, you would despise each other into oblivion, but through the beauty of chance has become your true sister. The one person in all the world you’re not afraid of what they think of you because you can show this person your most horrid self and there is no judgment, only love and support, and more than likely a goodly bit of teasing.
This friend could be a sibling, aunt or uncle, parent or child even. . .or it could be a girl you met one day sitting at a lunch table in a high school cafeteria.
Which brings us finally to my best friend. I did meet her when I was a senior in high school where we did sit at the same lunch table with a crazy rag-tag eclectic group of people, some of whom I can’t even remember now. We didn’t start out as best friends then, we just knew each other and enjoyed making fun of each other and those around us.
It wasn’t until after first semester of college that we became best friends. The strange thing about it was it was instantaneous!  I found her one night quite by accident, sitting on the sofa in the living room at my future husband’s. Without a word or any kind of plan we became best friends that very night and the rest is. . .well, I guess you could call it history. A long sordid history to be sure.

My best friend and true soul sister, has the most beautiful blue eyes, which she has in turn, given to her little daughter. Her wicked sharp sense of humor which can slay at the drop of a hat, is a double edged sword. For those who cannot grasp the artful quality of it, there is a serpent’s sting about it that undermines the brilliance. This ability to amuse and wound equally just might be my favorite thing about her, even when the barbs might be directed at me. If we cannot laugh at ourselves, how can we learn to laugh at all?
The other side of this strong worded and willed woman is a less than sure soul. My initial desire is to take her soul in my hands and hold it like a baby bird, to croon sweetly to it and keep it safe. Which is strange, because her actions create the illusion of one who is a protector, though as fiercely protective as she is I have found she has always been in need of being protected herself. That is one way we fit so perfectly together. . .we have been able to nurture the other and be nurtured in return without compromising either one’s dignity.
She is the only person I know who has the same strange ability to store and recall countless bits of useless trivia as me. Actually I know many people who can recall bits of trivia…but everyone seems to have their niche, their own special topic. We just store random facts. One of our favorites is the following and it goes a little something like this: Chinatown in Washington DC has the largest single span Chinese arch in the world. We know this because we spent a fair amount of time in Chinatown shopping for supplies to throw a “Chinese Take-Out” party.
No one cares about that arch. No one really listens to us when we relay that very cool fact…but it’s our fact and we like it.

We like to think of ourselves as outlaws. . .I’m Butch Cassidy and she’s the Sundance Kid. We’re not really outlaws. . .that’s our fantasy us. We’re just us. We’re just regular girls, however “outlawish” we want to pretend to be.
We like to say and do outrageous things for the sheer pleasure of it and sometimes simply for the shock value. Just to see how much we can rock the boat without actually falling out. And we have done seriously stupid things when it comes to boat rocking. . .sometimes I’m amazed to find there is still a boat for us to be in.
There are people who will tell you that she is a bad influence on me. I suspect there are people who say the same thing to her too.
I don’t really believe that. I don’t really like it either, what gives anyone the right to judge our friendship?
What about the times she is the only sane person I know? What about the time she drove panic stricken for two hours after not hearing from me for thirty-six hours to find me in my bed so miserable I couldn’t get up? That time I know she thought something really bad because when I woke to find her sitting on my bed with tears in her eyes, and as I lie there curled on my side looking silently up at her our tears spilled and mixed together so that when they landed on the soft cotton pillow we couldn’t have known which were hers and which were mine, but they all smelled exactly the same way, a combination of relief and joy.
What about the time the whole world closed in on her and I was the only person who loved her in exactly the way she needed? Without judgment, without irony, with just my heart opened to her when she needed to be loved more than any other time in her life.
So I believe the naysayers should simply. . .fade away.

We have always said we each have one half of the same brain. And for a long time it was like that, finishing each others sentences, thinking identical thoughts, knowing intrinsically what the other needed at any given time. But then I did the unthinkable! I packed up my whole life, my half of our precious brain and moved it all five hundred miles away. The disappointment and pain were palpable. She never said a word, she was supportive and tried to look at it as the same adventure I did. She was good, but the sense I had betrayed our friendship was overwhelming me even though I was so excited to begin the new life.
It was hard at first, the not being twenty minutes away from each other when we wanted a glass of wine after work, or to go shopping, or even just to sit on the couch together and watch a movie we’d both seen nine thousand times. But here’s the thing about being so far apart, it made us stronger and in so many ways, healthier. We could no longer take the other for granted. There is not as much time together in the same physical space, but we’ve embraced technology and spend great amounts of time emailing, texting and talking on the phone. We approached our friendship with more effort and commitment since I moved. We tried harder and make it more special. We have to make each time we see the other count for more. Sometimes when see each other, its like the recharging of a battery, sitting on the sofa in our jammies sharing music from one computer to the other all day long. Other times its just going as hard and fast as we can, like the weekend we spent shopping and drinking martinis from the moment we woke until we fell exhausted into sleep after a midnight movie, only to get up and do it all over again.
I worry about the time and distance…that it did create a bit more distance emotional distance, not just physical distance…especially recently, since I began seeing YBW. It was hard for her, to feel like someone had become more important to me than she. Of course that isn’t the case…there will never be another human being who is truly a part of my soul the way this Sundance girl is.

She has seen me through every trial, every bit of fear and sadness. Through all my joys, and there have been many. I have hurt her so deeply, as she has me, but we heal and become stronger. We become better people and in turn, better friends. She has taught me the value of having that one person who, no matter what, will stick with you when all the others run screaming for the hills.
And really, what more could I ask for?

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