I am a writer. And putting words on the page grounds me. A long time ago when my son was very small, I was lucky enough to find friendship with an amazing group of women I met through my words. Our words, really. We were writers and bloggers and moms and wives and the words we shared eased our way through some incredibly difficult years. We saw each other through our children’s challenges and illnesses, through divorce and heartache and loss. Big, sad, heartbreaking loss. And these events hold us to each other, to our past — a reminder of where we’ve been and how far we’ve come.
These women — most of these women — are still among my dearest friends. We are scattered, all of us, from coast to coast and points in-between. San Francisco, LA, Chicago, Delaware, New Hampshire… too many cities and states to mention. We keep in touch via FB and Instagram, social media now taking the place of our blogs. Our kids are growing up, our parents are getting older, so very much has changed in the ten years we’ve known each other.
Yesterday two beautiful gifts arrived on my doorstep. One I had given to myself (after seeing one of these friends post about it on FB) and the other a wonderful surprise from Chicago. To say I was lifted, carried through the day by the thoughtfulness and love and simple beauty of these gifts is not enough. But it’s true.
Sometimes there are no words for what we carry in our hearts. Sometimes our hearts are simply too full.
To these friends — and you know who you are — I will just say this: Thank you. Thank you for being out there, for honoring the ties, for everything we were to each other and everything we still are. I am so grateful for your presence in my life, for the gift of your words and your wisdom and your grace.
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson