I met her the day I interviewed for a job at my Uncle's firm. Big smile, short dark hair, darling clothes, and an attitude of spunky, fun confidence. She was helpful and a little loud. Outspoken and funny enough to feel like I knew her immediately. After getting to know each other a bit better, I said we were kindred spirits. She said we were separated at birth.
Now our friendship looks like blow by blow emails and texts, but it used to be daily lunches complete with plans for mimosa brunches when are old and gray. It used to be her picking me up and dropping me off after work because I was car-less. It's been hilarious people watching, how-to recipes and light conversation.
Our ride together has included the squeals of delight of getting engaged, planning weddings, having boys, giving nicknames. It's been emergency calls from hospitals and texts begging for prayer. It's been cancer, strokes, heart problems and death. It's her constant availability, the comfort of knowing she's there. Filling the gap, helping me figure life out.
Of course it's all the talk in between the big stuff: what we're wearing to the big party, can I borrow the magic jacket, when the baby got his teeth, how we can't get out of Target for less than $100, and the latest most disgusting/unbelievable act our boys have managed. Husband's jobs, Dr. visits and how to be grown-up when we are both kinda waiting for their real mom to show up and take over.
I got the job, but 16 years on other side of it, I'm convinced it was just a catalyst. God's way of providing a friendship that was destined to become one of my strongest and most dependable.
Joining the Gypsy Mama's 5 minute Friday writing exercise today.