You know the ones I’m talking about.
They are the friends from high school who supported you through troubled times while giving you permission to be happy and have fun – the ones you talked with on the phone for hours after school (where you spent all day together!) and got drunk with for the first time. The ones you met you in college and your twenties and talked about boys and careers and the future with for hours and hours on end. They helped you find yourself when you were most lost. They believed in you. They know you. You have laughed and cried and danced until dawn with them.
We stayed with Dan’s high school friends Dana and Nate for a few nights in Sudbury Ontario. Another friend, Jesse, came for a night for dinner with his wife and two kids.
They love to tell the story of their tattoos – which they got IN Sudbury – from a sketchy tattoo artiest on an epic trip through Northern Ontario. And here they were – all together – married with kids, back in the fabled town.
In Minnesota, we were lucky to get a big group of very old friends together for a boat cruise and rooftop deck dinner of fish tacos.
My friend Betsy – who I have known literally forever – had her boy Beto just one month after James. If only we didn’t live on opposite ends of the world!
But to have these little boys roll around on a blanket together – it was magic.
Two of our friends were pregnant. There was something really special about being with these people at this moment in time – when the next stage of marriage and kids is just beginning. When careers we dreamed about and worked for are actually happening. We talked and agonized about these things for years. Would we ever get our sh*t together? (Actually, most of my friends had their shit together – it was mostly me, and it’s still me, who could never really get that whole career thing together.)
Not to say that we all have perfect lives or that it’s all figured out – but these ladies, some of my very best girlfriends, have lived in interesting places, done such amazing things, married incredible men –
All I can say is: It made me happy.
One more great memory to pile on the docket. Now I’ll have to start dreaming about when I’ll see them all again.
The great thing was – it still felt like us. There were just more pushing the kids in strollers and conversations about naps and tupperware (Dana has the best tupperware).
There is an ease of being with old friends. The way you can skip the BS and get right the heart – the way you tease each other – the way you care about each other – the way the laughter comes so easily – the way you can talk about nothing and everything over the course of 15 minutes.
Dan and I dream of a place where we all live together and drink beers around a fire late into the night on a regular basis. Until we build it, we’ll go to great lengths and travel far distances to be with them, if every so briefly.