Loving people is remarkable. A friend and I were lamenting the fact that the busy pace of life has taken us in different directions. Her business and community outreach activities root her close to home and my personal journey, writing and family responsibilities lock me down here.
We were wistfully reminiscing about our life together, laughing and building story upon story the way people do when they have a rich shared history. Early on, we knew each other's wardrobes, schedules and issues. We were a fingertip away when difficulties arose or parties were planned. We were never on the guest list because we were never a guest. Our tables have always been set for each other. Hers was the first face I wanted my children to see when they took their first breath. Her husband and mine were best friends.
Life has tugged us this way and that. We've struggled to grasp hard lessons and transitions. We've been blown about and bruised. We've been exhilirated and overwhelmed by the beauty of life. Our fingertips no long touch like they did, standing in that kitchen with checkered wallpaper, with our arms opened wide.
To me, it's like a waltz. I stand in the center of a parquet floor, the people I love watching and smiling from the sidelines as the music plays. She steps forward to take my hand and we move to the music we hear. I can feel the brush of my skirt in a dip or a twirl, the warmth of her hand in mine, the smile in her eyes as she studies my face. We share this moment, this journey, to go somewhere new. Once we have shared this small part of my dance, she squeezes my hand and releases her grip, steps back and hands off to somebody else.
We can't always be center stage. Sometimes we dance and sometimes we watch but we know in our hearts we will always be there.
NMcC
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