Dear Q,
How is it possible that this picture, at the best 21st birthday party ever (sunflowers + live music + beer + magic light = heaven) was taken sixteen years ago? No, no, no. Impossible. Also impossible: that bleached jeans and huge nubby sweaters ever seemed like good sartorial choices to me!
I wrote to and about you last year and I’m not sure I can say it better than I did there:
Birthday girl, fellow proud redhead, a godmother to my first child, short-short wearer, Doctor Pepper drinker, occasional roommate at the Regency Hotel when traveling for our first jobs, tour-guide in Assissi, fellow secret country music fan, counselor, entertainer, reminder of what it’s all about: thank you.
Yes … there are so many memories from the past that rise up like clouds when I pat our college years even gently – the fact that your thesis ended with Kate Chopin’s The Awakening and mine began with it … driving through the night singing “good friends we’ve had, good friends we’ve lost along the way” … artichokes and mermaids … In anticipation … walking in the P-Rade, tear-streaked and tipsy, arms flung around the necks of each other and a long line of friends, traversing the line both virtual and literal between students to alumni, between children and adults. To call this the tip of the iceberg is a massive understatement.
I look forward to celebrating soon, with white wine (I’ve joined your ranks of white-only) and children crawling all over us. It seems like a lifetime ago and also yesterday that we met, and it still stuns me that we both have children, husbands, houses, MBAs. The data suggests we are adults – and yet somehow with you I am perpetually eighteen, in the best possible way.
This photograph hangs at eye level (right next to one of my wedding day where you are laughing with me in the momentary break from downpour) on the board in front of my desk. I look at you many times every single day. I think of what a lifetime friend is, and of the deep comfort it is to trust that even in times of less contact our bond endures. There are so many years behind us, filled to bursting with memories, and I look forward to all the ones that lie ahead.
I love you, Q. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Came across your lovely blog and had to say hello. Look forward to following you 🙂
I am currently being visited by *my* best friend of 16 years, and I, too, find it hard to believe that we’re adults who’ve known each other half a lifetime. These kinds of friendships are exceedingly rare: hold on to your Q.
What a beautiful friendship, Lindsey.
And you are so apt in describing it, “there are so many memories from the past that rise up like clouds…”
Here’s to many future years with dear friends!
Ok, so I realize this is random, but after reading this, now I’m wondering if I passed by Q at Trader Joe’s yesterday. She had reddish hair and was wearing a beautiful baby boy in a Bjorn (say that 10x fast). Anyway, she looked too young to be “our” age….and it probably wasn’t her, but whoa, wouldn’t that be crazy?
And Q, if you’re reading this, I swear I’m not stalking you. Lindsey can vouch that I am (relatively) normal person. 🙂 Oh, and happy birthday!
Cheers to friendship! Lovely post.