“Wild west, west coast, these are the girls I love the most.”
Drea stopped all the squealing.
Her voice rang. “Hey girls?” We stopped tugging our tops and angling our faces at the mirror.
“Think about it,” she said. “We’re all happy.”
And one by one we all paused, retraced the steps of the last little while, and smiled a private smile.
She was right, and bless her forever for making us stop and bookmark this glorious summer.
We ARE all happy. And we’ve all got a toe in each others’ hot tub. None of us got where we are without each other. We all invested and we all paid off, and while it’s rarely that neat and tidy, that’s exactly what happens when women are each other’s friends.
Happy Birthday Lacey.
I hope you know that year after messy, unexpected year, your girls will always be your girls.
Several months back, my friend Drea’s husband sent her flowers, and as I snapped this picture, my favorite picture of her, I remember thinking that I’d never seen her look more beautiful and content and ….. womanly.
And there was something to the sparkle I saw that day. 40 weeks later, yesterday, the first day of spring, Drea gave birth to little Audriana Casey.
Older Gentleman – “Ladies?”
Drea – “Yes?
Valancy Jane – *looks up*
Older Gentlemen – “You ladies would win the award for best dressed ladies in this store.”
Drea – “Oh thank you!”
Valancy Jane – “Is there actually an award?”
Older Gentleman – *shakes head* “My wife won’t let me do that …… anymore.”
Yesterday, while speaking to my new general care doctor, we covered my medical history, and overall health. How often I exercise, how much sleep I get a night, etc. She noted that I’d repeated myself, twice mentioning my wonderful, supportive, wise and loving circle of friends. I found myself bringing it up again to a specialist I saw later that day.
I wanted them to know that I know what I’m sure they already know. That either as a reflection of, or because of, my overall health can at any point be gauged by how many close female friendships I have.
And later that night, a cocktail reception at the art museum, it occurred to me. Why had I told my doctors this, and not my gal pals themselves?
I can never tell them too often what they mean they mean to me, and how rich and loved and alive they make me feel. That no story of me, even something as mudane as a medical file, is complete without mention of them. They are that powerful.
… now include “when I can move again, I’m going to drive a car over your mother,” and “one more set and I’ll have you audited.”
Which are horrible things to say to a friend’s husband, and someone who is training you for free. But from the way he giggles …… I think he likes it.
….. “Anything for you, darling, especially if it’s Patrick’s.”
Drea – “Ooooooooo, pretty flower!”
Valancy Jane – “Isn’t it? Izzy gave it to me.”
Drea – “Too big to put in your hair, though.”
Valancy Jane – “I take that as a challenge.”
That took several tries, two helpers and a minute and a half to get.
It caught us in the act of deciding what matching color scheme we’re going to do tomorrow.
Today I told Drea that doing my hair and feeding me sandwiches and picking my outfits and playing bubbles with me is more practice for having a baby than most young women ever get.
Yeah, you read that right.
Drea’s a mama now, a transition she’s making with joy and reverence and wicked style.
….. women are evolving to become more beautiful over time.
Here, they explain the how and the why.
But I mean, I could have told you that. I don’t know any un-beautiful women. I checked.