Thursday, April 19, 2012
"The over-stimulated, but-I-would-barely-give-up-a-second-of-it, weekend with 'the girls' now affectionately known as "The BaBaas. [Little Brother] said this evening, "You must have been cheerleaders."
"Why?" I asked ( because he was dead right--three of us were).
"Because one weekend and you already have new cheers and secret handshakes."
My kids asked if the water was cold at the lake place and I had to laugh. We never even checked. All we did was talk. On the square of couches inside, on the deck sitting around the lunch table, watching clouds and jet-skis down at the dock lakeside. Beneath the luxurious starry night where an equally luxurious feast had been prepared for us at a home on Hoods Canal by folks we don't even know and will probably never see again--salmon and salad and fresh bread. Candlelight dining til we were stuffed but we still had room to snare bites of shared desserts as the plates were passed between us. Beside a readied campfire on the beach, we watched the night and the fire, listened to more words, or the small silences and felt the home only we can be to each other--yes, such home as our deep, long friendship can bring. Some silly, necessary old stories were brought out like we hadn't heard them a hundred times before, and those stories were as sweet as the dessert. And we told new stories, shared confidences, and opinions--some hard, some not. And there was laughter permeating every sentence. Because these are the girls.
They are the friends I went through puberty with. We were present for first periods, and first kisses, for boyfriends and breakups...and these women, I think, will be the ones who may well be there at the end of my days as well. When our hair is all white and our teeth are failing with our chests, and we're all using canes and needing diapers. They'll still be the girls to me."
All I can add to this is that ALL women should have such friends. We are made for them, Made-in His-Image for them. I believe it. I am thankful that over the course of my life He has repeatedly given me such a wealth of such women. But that surfeit of riches of female friendships (and perhaps my very ability to maintain them) always, always start with these first and best.
To read some other journal entries, see these posts.