Friday, June 11, 2010

This one is also for KWF

In 2003, or thereabouts, I hopped into a restaurant in Clarendon for a blind date.

It wasn't a romantic date. I was getting married, and at the time I was planning to hold my wedding ceremony on the grounds of the Jefferson Memorial. The people who have the authority to grant permission to do such a thing told me another wedding was scheduled at the Memorial the same day. If I wanted, I could send a letter to them that they would forward, and find out about things such as sharing chairs and other wedding related things two couples getting married at the Jefferson Memorial might have in common.

I wrote the letter and mailed it. They never forwarded it. I was lucky to meet my sensational friend anyway. She and I both joined a message board for brides in the throes of planning a wedding. One day she mentioned her location. I emailed her. We exchanged a few messages. We decided to meet for dinner.

Making friends is a lot like dating. This is something my friend will tell you, and I know it to be true. When I walked into that restaurant, I didn't know what to expect. What would we have in common, except the somewhat ambitious idea of a Jefferson Memorial wedding (we both later nixed the idea in favor of air conditioning and a cicada free ceremony)? What would we talk about?

Seven years later, to trot out an old cliche, I could make a much shorter list of the things we haven't talked about. Sometimes, in dating and in friendship, you just click. We have always talked about how it was easy - how we fell into our friendship with gusto, how such a strong sisterhood emerged with very little effort at all. She was the one who encouraged me to go more deeply into blogging, and while the post itself is a bit embarrassing, and highly self centered, I wouldn't have begun this journey of electronic journaling had it not been for her.

My friend is moving away in a few weeks. To be fair, I technically moved away first, leaving Northern Virginia for the swan song of Annapolis, with its somewhat less attractive chorus: fifty miles of traffic between the beginnings of my married life, and now. My move was met with mixed reactions, anchored on the one side by K's instant reassurance. "Don't worry. I'll always come to see you."

And she did. Through children and jobs and vacations, through moments of soaring happy giggles and sobbing evening telephone calls, through pages of decorating tomes and volumes of celebrity gossip, from tiny bar basements in my corner of the world to tucked away sandwich shops in hers, our friendship thrived, the seeds sprinkled up and down the highway, from my end of US Route 50, in Maryland, to her end in Virginia.

When she told me about her move, I echoed back the same reassurances she gave me. Not to worry. What's a move? Secretly, however, I wondered if, in my effort to be supportive, I was failing to communicate the deep wish that somehow, her plans would change, and she and her husband would announce last minute plans to purchase the house next door to mine. That of course I wish she were remaining a mere, piddly fifty miles away, and that obviously, the universe was making some great error in not convincing our husbands to go into business together (it would be a cooking and cleaning business, if you wondered).

No. Instead, my dear friend is definitely going to pack her belongings and transport them hundreds of miles away. So, my fabulous friend, I'd just like you to know:

Please leave a light on for me. Please stock the diet Coke. Please stock a lot of wine. Please save your gossip magazines for me, and your copies of Traditional Home. I'll be using them, and using them a lot, because my dear Kathryn:

I will always come to see you.

Safe travels.

4 comments:

L.Duncan@Home23DuncanBoys said...

Your posts are great. They are always great. This one in particular, struck a nerve. I recently "broke up" with my once best friend. My best friend in the world. Everything use to be great between us. We laughed together, cried together, and everything else in between. She was my go to for everything that my husband wouldnt understand.
what brought us together was my depression. We had known each other from school, but never were "friends". One day, I decided to call her out of the blue. I was at my lowest low. And she answered and we talked and it was great. But our lives changed. Her soon to be husband cheated prior to their wedding. His mistress had a baby. My friend had a baby. My friend found out about "the other woman" and then she was depressed. Such a sad moment in time. They were high school sweethearts. The worse part was that I couldn't be there for her like she needed. I had my third child, purchased a house, and was trying to get use to my new set of responsibilities. Long story short, she is having an identity crises (seriously) and wants me to take part. I can't stand to see her like that. It's been almost three years so I decided to call it quits. I miss her. I miss who she use to be. And I'm not sure she'll be that person again. She was done wrong and hurt bad. And at the end, I was too. So in a way, he hurt us both.

Its nice to have a great friend. Hold on tight to her...

Two Shorten the Road said...

Aw, you guys are both so great. :)

Two Shorten the Road said...

p.s. betcha made her cry with this post.

Nicole said...

You made me cry with this post! I am so glad you all had that blind date, because if you had not, I never would have met one of my best friends. There are not words for how much I am going to miss you KWF!