Sunday, July 05, 2009


The three of us have been friends since high school cross country. The two of them, since we moved into town when I was in 3rd grade and they in 2nd. MVP lived about 2 miles towards town from us, and we'd pick her up in Claude, our 1977 Oldsmobile my grandfather gave us instead of take the insulting trade in the dealer offered him, and go where ever it was we were going. We all ran cross country together, although saying I ran is being rather generous. (My senior year of high school, I was the girl the whole field clapped for as I was the final competitor stumbling across the finish line, looking rather pathetic. I ran because my favorite elementary school teacher was the coach and he asked me if I'd join the team so he could have 5 girls to make it an official team. A high school of 1200 kids and we had to beg someone to be the 5th member of a team. Have I mentioned I came of age in a football town?) Anyhow, I digress. We've been friends for a long time, and she is the only friend I have left from high school who I actually talk to and meet up with.

Unfortunately, we don't meet up enough. She lives in Western Mass, we in Western Maine. It's probably a 5 hour drive, which, compared to what we just did is peanuts, but when you're trying to fit visits in around the rest of your life, is just a bit too far. Her boys are 10, 8, and 15 months... and we hadn't seen them since before the baby was born. I feel bad about it, but it is what happens, I guess. (She's told me not to feel guilty, but I was baptized Catholic and I think guilt comes with the blessing.) We talk every few months or so, and do what women who have been friends since before we were women, and wives, and moms do-- help each other through aging parents and overwhelming sports schedules and what to do when the freezer and the stove die after a financially taxing winter and how we can't find a pair of shorts that fit us right. You know, the important stuff.

When we talked this winter, it came out that we were headed to Bozeman at the same time they were ending a trip to Yellowstone with her brother in law's family. You mean we're all going to be within 100 miles of each other? Seriously? She and I decided to invite them to Dr. Sister's house, and because sometimes Fate is a good friend to have, it all worked out. We spent the Fourth of July together-- 3 high school friends, 3 husbands who have become friends, and 8 kids (11, 10, 9, 8, 8, 15 mos and 9 mos), playing and laughing and talking and eating like we do this all the time. We visited the Museusm of the Rockies, a MSU museusm that houses actual dinosaur bones. We had a good old fashioned cook out and watched the fireworks outside the local Ho-Mart.

You, my loyal readers, know how important people are to me. I came out here to see our family, and sure, while we're here, let's see come of the cool things around too. But pictures of Wm. Clark's signature won't help you when your kid is witnessing bullying at school and is having nightmares. I am blessed to have lots of people in my corner, and to be in the corner of lots of people. And I take comfort in the knowledge that the Cookie Monster Fan Club has survived time and distance and all sorts of life changes, and when we do all get together (the last time was 8 years ago, in my parent's living room) it's like nothing at all has changed.


Katie said...

You look so happy in this photo. All three of you do. It's touching.

Wendy said...

I envy you that. When one moves every couple of years, like I did until I was thirty, it's difficult to cultivate friendships like that.

I love that you recognize and acknowledge how much your friends mean to you. I'm sure they feel the same way ;).

rach :) said...

Thanks, guys. Wendy, your experiences are a lot of the reason we chose to live-- and stay-- where we are. Friendships really matter. A lot. One set of friends at home is tracking our journey across country on a map on the fridge. How cool is that? And Bestfriends... well, let's just say we're all looking forward to the reunion :)