Two Girls in Dresses in a Meadow by the Coast: A Tribute to Long-Lasting Girlhood
We've been friends for 26 years-- since we were in first grade and I asked her to teach me to draw those bubble dogs with the puffy cheeks! Luckily, she agreed, and agreed to an infinite list of other requests including being the maid-of-honor in my wedding this spring. Each of our lives has been full of joy and magic, challenge and determination, adventure and travel, love and elation, sorrow and grief, mystery and meaning--just like anybody else.
But there's something about having the same set of sturdy shoulders nearby for 26 years that just makes me well-up with sweet tears every time it's mentioned. It's like just the existence of this person in my life is enough to remind me of all the things I need to hold dear. Like she's this constant reflection of the girl I was and the woman I've become, and like she somehow helps to thread all those years into one cohesive and less complicated story. Thank goodness!
So, this weekend we carved out a few hours for an adventurous photo shoot: Two Grown-up Girls in Flowy Dresses in a Meadow by the Coast. It's as if we're truly blood sisters, or spit sisters, or some other sort of sisterhood established by the likes of first and second graders in clubs with signs that read, "Girls Only, Keep Out". Like we are actually keeping true to that pact we made on the playground when we offered those little silver necklaces in the height of 80s fashion: Best Friends Forever.
This is my tribute to long-lasting friendship, my toast to indispensable connection, my cheers to insistence on girlhood most importantly when we are actually adults. There's a power in it all, a resilience, a rebellion, an open-armed and whole-hearted embrace of the parts that make us stronger. The parts that twirl, and prance, and jump, and pirouette in the meadow overlooking the coast, and leap in the tall grass by the old farm shed, and continue to giggle regardless of everything else. The parts that motivate us, that inspire us, that lead us with little more than a porch light glowing softly over a rusted turquoise bench.
To all these parts and pieces of girlhood and friendship, I raise my glass of something bubbly and tap it against your glass...