BFFs

Meet Mandy, my childhood BFF:  Best Friend Forever.

We had the necklace and everything, 

the one that splits a heart in half, 

the one that says that without the other, 

things are not quite right.

It was a legacy for us to fulfill; our mothers were best friends, then our fathers.  Our houses were interchangeable, our chauffeurs one  parent or the other.  We didn't even notice the difference as we were shuttled from church to home to the other's home and back.  

And then, when I was 13 and she was 12, Uncle Al got a job in Texas and away they went.  I still remember their last night, the hotel room they were staying in, my tears on the way home as my dad and I passed the bowling alley our childhood knew.  

That memory and more came flooding back this past weekend,

when we all gathered at my parent's house 

for hamburgers and hot dogs and overall:

REUNION.

Since we hadn't seen each other since I made the trip to Texas when I was 20, I had yet to meet this lovely child,

who in some ways reminds me of her mother and in other ways shows me she is a woman all her own,  

sweetness and strength wrapped into one.

We spent the evening reminiscing, looking for remnants of our early years in photo albums and in each other.

Sunday morning found us in church, sitting next to each other as we often did, tears in our eyes as we watched visions of little girls dance across the stage, as we reflected on where we've been since then and that once again we were right where we needed to be: Together.

After church was over, we visited the magical garden in the back of the building, and called to mind our childhood fantasies, our childhood hurts, our childhood laughter, our childhood hearts.

The necklace might be long gone, but the message is the same:

Doesn't matter where we are or if we never talk;

this woman knows me in ways no one else ever will.

My BF, Forever.

[Love you Mand. 

So good to be with you, even for the littlest bit.]