I’ve always loved this house. It is where I lived when I met my BFF. I was 12, she was 13. I was a “country” girl, she was a Guess jean wearing, private school attending, city girl. We hit it off from that very first day when she was rocking on her porch swing and I was sitting on the curb in front of this lovely white house wearing dirty Levi’s, a plaid shirt and cowboy boots. Having just returned from the stables and tending my horse, I noticed the girls around my age sitting across the street (BFF had a friend from school over). I plopped down on the curb hoping they would deem me worthy of speaking too. They did and the rest, as they say, is history.
A lot of giggling, growing up and just passing time took place on that porch swing. I am a firm believer that we were all better neighbors, maybe even better people when we had front porches. Without front porches, I may not have met my BFF.
The time is long past of walking to the corner market after salty pretzels and Coca-Cola, of watching horror flicks late at night and having the neighbor boys sneak around outside the window and scare the daylights out of us. Those carefree days of laying in the backyard in our cut-off jeans and bikini tops slathered in baby oil, hoping that our pearly white skin would just get SOME color, even if it was red are a distant memory. We were together more than we were apart. We have only had one fight in all these years. It was over the movie, Beethoven. I loved it. She hated it. We didn’t talk for 2 days. Then we giggled about how silly that was. (I have a St. Bernard now… she has a Shi Tzu which possibly explains the differing opinions.)
As time goes on and we have grown, we have been through many different stages in life. My first plane ride was with her, we shared in weddings, babies, divorces… There have been times when we haven’t talked in a couple months because life gets too busy. But when we do pick up the phone or grab that cup of coffee, it’s like only a day has passed.
This week, I shared in the birth of her second daughter. It was a joyous event. I spent the night at the hospital, helping her take care of the new little bundle while she recovered from her c-section. It was like old times, only different. 🙂
Welcome to the world Little One! You are well loved!