Previously...

A trip down memory lane is necessary at times in life, I firmly believe.  I moved from the west coast to the east coast the summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school.  I forced my parents to agree to send me back to California if this whole east coast business didn't work out.  I was not really such a happy camper to be leaving my friends.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I was not exactly the most social butterfly, but I had worked hard to find my little group and I was happy.  The east coast did not promise this same life.  I was bitter.

After the arrival, a wee bit of a bumpy transition, riding the bus(!!!!) to my new high school, and getting used to everything else in life, I was in full throttle to achieve nerd status.  I was tall, awkward, highly ungraceful, and was absent when athletic prowess was handed out.  I was just a whirling dervish of clumsiness.  Them, my mother, in all of her social networking, announced that she had found a carpool for me to join.  Anything was better than riding the confounded bus, I can assure you.  There was the driver and one other person in the car, which was a teeny tiny Nissan, two door.  Since I was the newest in the carpool, I was relegated to the back seat, which was not always bad.  It wasn't like I hoped the other passenger would be sick often ;0)  We shared those last two years together, through thick and thin, with joy, arguments, my wacky mood swings, and multiple trips to 7-11 for Smartfood popcorn.

Fast forward just about 23 years, give or take, and on a fantastic Saturday night, we were reunited, along with two other strong, amazing women, who also went to high school with us.  They were just way cooler and had their own vehicles for driving.  I was late arriving, which is par for the course, but joined right in the cacophony of discussions and laughter.  There were thirst quenching beverages, delicious food, and time that flew by!   We talked about high school, reviewed the year books, noted grammatical errors that should never have been published, laughed about those who dared us not to post pictures on social networking sites, shared about our children, and decided that NoSo Sudan would not be an ideal place to vacation, but sharing time before one person departs to go there with Doctors Without Borders was fantastic.  Time had not skipped a beat.  There weren't awkward silences, competition, or claims of whose hair was better styled.  It was amazing.  I was glad that I didn't pull an all too familiar stunt and not attend.  A wise person once told me that I should always make time for my girlfriends, come hell or high water, as they would be the ones there when the children were grown and husbands were grumpy.  I am so pleased to know that I have done this, relative to me mind you, so that I can have a solid group of women I can call friends, even if it takes 20 years to see some of them.

I cannot promise it will be tomorrow that I will reconnect with these amazing women.  Life marches on, as do airplanes and jobs.  I am thankful for my girlfriends.  Truly.