Fifty Years

Neither of us remember how we met. Kids don’t make much of a fuss about making friends; they just sort of… become. I still have a few of those black-and-white pictures we used to be able to take – stacked four on top of one another – in those little photo booths you could find in department stores back in the 70s. I love and treasure those photos of the two of us crammed together into that little booth, grinning big toothy smiles, being silly or just unselfconsciously staring into the camera with serious, loving looks on our faces.

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Friends Since Forever

Me and my bestie, a long, long time ago…

My sister and I were watching a documentary – I don’t even recall the topic – and there were two fifties-something women being interviewed who had been best friends since grade school.

When I was a kid, I lived in a town with a local air force base and I had a knack for finding friends whose parents would eventually be transferred to another base, leaving me – over and over again – bereft and mourning for yet another friend who had moved on.

The Day I Learned About Cruelty and Intolerance

Source of photo: Vecteezy

I recall clearly that it was a beautiful sunny day: the kind of day that happens on that first day in the spring where everyone goes outside without a coat for the first time and the air smells fresh and new and full of possibility.

I was in grade three, walking hand-in-hand with another little girl, through the school playground. I clearly recall how wonderful it felt, to have a friend who didn’t mind showing the entire world that she liked me enough to hold my hand. I was not a particularly popular child in my early elementary years so any public demonstration of affection was a feather in my cap; a sign that I was popular too (sad, that even at age 8, I already understood the concept of ‘popular’).

“LIZZIES!!! Look at the two lizzies!” shouted an older kid, pointing at us and laughing loudly. At the time, I was sure that every single kid on the playground turned to look.

Saying Farewell, Once and For All (Pandemic Clean Up: Post 3)

I was blessed – in more ways than I can count – to give birth first to a boy and then to a girl. It wouldn’t have mattered to me what their gender was, but it was a gift to have both in my life, and to observe, from the very subjective vantage point of a mother, how very different little boys and little girls can be.

I Guess That Doesn’t Define Me Anymore

Lately I have become a little fascinated with the scarring process. As I have gotten older, I have noticed that the innumerable little cuts and burns I get

Why Can’t We Be Friends?

He is a dyed-in-the-wool conservative with staunch fundamental Baptist values.

Unfinished Business (Best Friend)

Life is full of unfinished business. We don’t always get to know why someone cut us off. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with us. Maybe their lives got complicated. Or busy. Maybe they outgrew us. Maybe they died. Or maybe they truly wished to have nothing more to do with us. Sometimes, we just don’t get to know the answer… sometimes, we just have to live with the void…

Farewell Jacques*, and Thank You…

“Way down the street there’s a light in his place
He opens the door, he’s got that look on his face
And he asks you where you’ve been
You tell him who you’ve seen
And you talk about anything”

Gerry Raferty, Baker Street

Mom, Did You Ever Take Drugs?

My husband is always telling me that I am far too open with my children about, well, everything.

On Introverts and Extroverts

I am an introvert. In fact, I am quite sure that I was the blueprint they used to write the definition of introvert.