We sat on the beach, faces caressed by the wind, and watched people pack their belongings. The waves rolled up and down, the birds flew back and forth, the sun disappeared. But we sat unmoved. Steadfast. Like our friendship.
When we’re together, we do what old friends do: talk about the past we share and fill each other in on the daily present we no longer share. They are my physical yearbook, lives lived long ago and memories cemented in black and white. Though completely different and eclectic, we’re all very similar. It’s really odd when one of my friends stands at 6’1” with blond hair and blue eyes and people ask if we’re related. I don’t think they see our physical bond, but the emotional connection we all share.
Bomb Squad minus Melanie
Catching up over lunch wasn’t enough time to unpack where we were, where we’ve been, and where we want to be. Lives have changed so much in the past seventeen years. No longer are our conversations about football games and lunch rallies, chemistry and algebra, prom and driver’s licenses. We needed the emptiness of the beach to fill each other in on our lives.
Though short one friend, we spoke about the type of women we are. High-strung, get-her-done, over-achievers. Matt still doesn’t understand our bond and finds it hilariously dorky we still refer to ourselves with our high school nickname. [He just doesn’t get it.] When it came time to plan our wedding, Matt made an excel spread sheet with possible dates. I automatically omitted two out of the five dates because any one of them might not be able to make the perspective dates the rest of my friends could. He just shook his head. [Like I said, he doesn’t get it.]
But like oak trees, time has made us stronger. We are each other’s sounding boards, advisers, therapists, and event planners [We’ve decided that I’m the most emotional one of the group, so I’ll probably just cry when they have a problem. Yes, I annoy myself.]
Our friendship has endured loss of a parent, career changes, weddings, breakups, boyfriends, and bad hair. In spite of our bond, we are separated by many miles. Miles that seem too far for a phone call or too late for an email.
We left the empty beach filled with our memories and fears and secrets to be kept by the waves rolling up and down and birds flying back and forth. After our time spent together, I drove home thinking that every woman battles with loneliness at one point or another. Married, single, divorced, widowed, or a nun, we can be filled and happy one moment, then walk into a room full of people and feel horribly alone. In that moment, you want someone to know you. To grab your hand and say, Hey, I saved you a seat!
Tomorrow I’m going to make a list of what it takes to be a friend. I’ll be the first to admit, friendship is hard. And scary. And I don’t do it right, but I’m trying. And don’t worry… I’ll save you a seat. 😉
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