More coming on seeing so many dear friends this weekend, but for now I will just quote from myself (! a first!):

Thank you, Quincy, for being an incredibly rare lifetime friend – if not the rarest and most special – being with you feels like home! I am amazed to observe the ways that we’ve taken roads that are both incredibly different and profoundly similar … and feel so blessed that the way you get me instantly, with patience and insight and without judgment, hasn’t changed. I think back to the first time I met the long-legged, short-shorted redhead in the Wilson courtyard in the fall of 1992 … how far we’ve come! How many friends know what I wrote my thesis about, how many days early I turned it in, the name of my freshman year boyfriend, what I wore to my 21st birthday, that I cried almost weekly in my first job out of college, what my favorite song, book, and movie are, what I thought the day I met my now husband, and a million other of the mundane details that make up a life? How many friends were there with me the night I broke my leg running naked in the snow, the night before my wedding, and within weeks of my first child’s birth? I can’t articulate how much you mean to me – and how much the shared history that brought us here is part of the bedrock of my life … thank you.

“But there’s no vocabulary for love within a family.

Love that’s lived in, but not looked at.

Love within the light of which all other love finds speech.”

– T S Eliot