(This past Sunday, laughing at who knows what while simultaneously melting from the heat at Rebusfest)

Natasha and I haven’t shared a lifetime of friendship.  We met on our way out of college - but I think I love her so intensely because of the depth of our experiences together. In the years between 23 and 29 she has been a part of everything.

She watched me fall in love with Brent. She watched him break my heart.  Then she said, “Let’s get out of here” and we went to the coast and wore pretty dresses and danced the night away and sat on the sidewalk outside a bar in Wilmington and she wiped the sweaty hair from my forehead and reminded me that I was a helluva catch and boys were stupid.

And when my stupid boy finally wisened up, she was there to call him a knucklehead and pick up where we all left off. And when my parents divorced and I was screaming crying in my bedroom with snot and tears all over the place, she was there to pat my back and remind me that most everyone’s family is a mess.

And when I had to face my first Christmas in a freshly ripped-apart home all alone (with my brother away at war) She drove down to spend Christmas eve with me and mama and we danced to Jack Johnson around a fire on the north end of the beach while the waves crashed. (and I realized holidays would never be the same, but we’d all survive)

and we lived under the same roof for two years as we made our way into early adulthood. She helped me to decide to wear a pencil skirt to my first big girl job interview. She cooked big meals for our house full of girls. We were silly and often foolish and sometimes went to work the next morning wearing mascara from the night before and going on 4 hours of sleep (because we were grown but not THAT grown). And then I got to watch her fall in love too.

Then, as life tends to go, I got married and she was right up there next to me when it happened. and when we learned we were moving to San Francisco, she was the one who threw us a big going away party (but refused to look me in the eyes for half of it because she said she’d kill me if I made her cry). And then eventually, she and Scotty picked up and moved out to San Francisco with us.

and we ran all over that city. Being just a little more grown, but not so much that we wouldn’t swing from the bars of a packed full MUNI bus or buy cap guns after too many drinks in the Castro. And then I learned I was pregnant. and SURPRISE  - so did she. and then they moved back to NC and I stood up there next to her when she married her Scotty.

and how ‘bout that - we were both having little girls. And we traded tips on pregnancy and confided in one another our fears.

and do you know who picked us up when we moved home to North Carolina? Natasha and Scotty. Our first night back, we slept in their guest room.

all of us. two families. two girls who weren’t really girls any more. We’d acquired so many new titles since we’d first met.  Wife. Mother. and suddenly we were THAT grown.It was even better than I could have imagined.

and I’ve learned that it’s not the amount of time you’ve known someone that makes their presence in your life impactful. It’s the depths you go with them. It’s the number of time you look over when something really big is happening in your life and they’re right there.

and that’s my Natasha. through the best and the worst.

M