I met Woman in high school.
She has a name, of course.
But, for some reason that escapes me now, we called each other woman.
I think it will work out beautifully though.
When we are both very very old and have trouble remembering things, we can still just call each other Woman.
Woman is one of those amazing friends that you just can’t believe you get to have.
Someone that understands you.
Someone that supports you.
Someone that tells you what you need to hear … even when you don’t want to hear it.
Someone that truly wants what’s best for you.
Someone you can trust completely.
Someone that loves you unconditionally.
Woman and I can call each other and at the answer with “Hello?” or “Hi” we know if the other is having a good day or a bad. … If it’s just a small stuff frustrating day, or big stuff. Offspring stuff or husband stuff.
The other person knows just what to say. But, even more important is just knowing how much she loves you.
It helps get you through the stuff.
And of course, there is the good stuff.
I was the maid of honor at her wedding.
When she wanted to wear comfortable tennis shoes under her mother’s beautiful wedding dress and others were opposed, I adorned a pair of white tennis shoes with lace and pearl decorations and soaked them in a sink of tea so they would match her dress. … A good friend helps make sure you get to wear tennis shoes on your wedding day.
And she was my maid of honor … matron of honor … at my wedding 6 months later.
Once I reached the alter, I turned to hand her my bouquet of flowers and she … licked her fingers and moved some out-of-place hairs back where they should have been. “Did you just LICK my forehead?!?!” I whispered to her in front of God and these witnesses. “Yeah”, she said smiling at me, “Now be quiet and turn around.” … A good friend plasters your hair down with her spit. (Maybe with a bit of vengeance for the time you put her hair up in a french-twist the morning of her wedding and nearly pierced her brain. .. But, she had strongly stressed that I needed to make sure it wouldn’t fall out. … That’s my defense. That and her hair did stay in place. At least until the dancing started. And it did not actually pierce her brain. Just almost.)
There was the fun of being pregnant at the same time
Misery loves company.
That’s all I’m saying.
And sharing the joys of life with a newborn … diapers, spit up, breastfeeding, diapers (oh, I said that), sleepless nights, spit up (oh, I said that).
Misery loves company.
Oh, I said that.
I’m joking though. Half way. I adore my babies. More than words can say. (I just also adore a good night sleep. … I think. … I can’t remember.)
Woman sent me a text the other day and I realized that we met in high school during our adolescence and now we’re talking pre-menopause. (I said “talking” not experiencing. … Not yet, anyway.)
But, how wild is that?!?!
What an incredibly blessing the Lord has given to me to go through life with someone so incredible by my side.
Happy birthday, Woman!
I love you!