photo from dailymail.co.uk
A good friend is a connection to life – a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world. ~ Lois Wyse.
I am fortunate to have several close girlfriends who bring me a great deal of joy. My very best and most treasured girlfriend, however, is my cousin, Debra F. I’m 3 months older, she’s 6″ taller. She’s got Breck girl hair, mine? Not so much. We’re vastly different and inherently similar.
We all want someone in our corner; Deb’s the friend who arrives in gladiator attire whilst commandeering a sequined chariot. She’s a brilliant flash of color, a soul whose presence fills a room, whose personality I get. We finish each other’s sentences, share a familial past and a ardent love of heels. Together, we carry forward the traditions that mean the most to both of us.
We grew up together, literally and figuratively. We spent our days riding our ponies, lazing at the lake, plotting school adventures, singing along to records, acting out fashion and talent shows and playing, growing, laughing, living. We’ve cried together and laughed together and always, we’ve been the very best of friends.
There were a few years when our lives got in the way and we lost touch. We took our friendship for granted. But then, we got older and re-connected. Now, even though we live miles and miles apart, when we get on the phone, we lose all track of time. We laugh till our faces hurt, we call each other out, we hold grudges against any individual who dared hurt the other, we cheer victories and we soothe heartaches. We remind each other of past pronouncements (I’ll never do ____ again. Oh ya? Well you just did, dork!). We are each other’s tie to the past, of cookie-filled adventures with our Dads, who were more than just brothers, and our moms, who are both campy, hilarious and wise. Together, we’re campy, playful and comfortable. There’s only one problem. In our minds’ eye, we have imagined ourselves as the Golden Girls one day, and we both think we’re Blanche, that sexy southern scamp of a gal with the fabulous wardrobe and a line of men vying for her attention. And that’s ok, because while we might never retire to Miami sporting seafoam and peach, in our lifetime we have been exactly what the other needed. The very best of friends.
Thank you for being a friend, friend.
