Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Sometimes A Crown Makes It All Okay

There are friends in our lives who allow us to be ourselves, to relax into an evening and not worry about what we say or how we look or what we feel. Friends who love and accept you for who you are and no matter what we feel at the moment it is okay to share it, to talk about it, to live it. These are the friends who stand by us no matter what. Who live with us and love with us, who win with us and lose with us. These are the friends who assure us that no matter what, we are loved. These are the women I was with tonight. These are my friends. My Queens.

The story of the Queens is delightful and quirky and funny and loving. The story of the Queens is a story that culminated tonight in drinks in the fading sunshine on the porch. Laughter and love and catching up with each other's lives. It is the story of survival, whether we want it or not. It is the story of friendship that grew and endured and strengthened and survived. It is the story of stars on a crown and in the sky. It is the story of women. Women who have loved and lost and loved and won. The story of women who have passed on to our daughters all that is good in life and love and loss. It is the story of friendship.

This is where it is okay to say, "I hurt," where it is okay to say "I grieve". It is where it is okay to be loved.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Odd Or Even

My mother liked to add the numbers on license plates. I asked her what she thought about the totals she got and she said odd was good, even, bad. I'm not sure how she came to that conclusion. When my mother went into the Nursing Home I found myself adding license plate numbers occasionally, it made me feel closer to her somehow. Now, it has become a habit and I rarely make it from my house to work or to the store or anywhere else without glancing at the plates of the cars around me and quickly adding the numbers. For me, even or odd is unimportant, over 30 on a Maine plate is the goal!

I think of my mother every time I add a plate. I think of her and how she viewed the world, what simple things pleased her and how I wish I could be more like her. I add the numbers and let that simple act connect me to my mother and it makes me feel better.