Wrangler Dani

I have an old friend, as most of us do.  She and I are a few months apart in age, and our parents were friends long before we came on the scene.  When our families hosted each other for dinner every few months, we spent every moment playing with Barbies or our American Girls. (She had Kirsten, I had Samantha, and they were best of friends too.) At the end of the evening, EVERY TIME, we begged our parents to let one of us “spend the night”. We thought we were so sly, never voicing this novel idea until everyone was saying their good-byes, and always getting quite revved up and nervous about the prospect of our moms and dads saying no, which they almost never did.

She was my only childhood girlfriend, one with whom I shared secrets and created wild and fanciful stories.  Then my family moved away, just at the cusp of growing up and leaving the world of dollies behind.  I guess we sort of lost touch after that, remembering each other fondly but distantly, in the context of childhood games and family friends.  But now, oddly enough, we’re both back in the same county, with degrees in very similar industries; passions, hopes and dreams that have much in common.  We’re grown-ups now, but she has the same laugh that I remember so vividly, the same gracious smile, the same free and easy imagination.

We had a coffee date this morning, and wound up sighing and giggling about unemployment, discussing the way of the world and getting excited about what may be around the bend for both of us.  I love that my oldest friend is back in my life, and that we have so much to talk about, even after years of silence.

We’ve gone from American Girls to entrepreneurial adventures, from Babysitters Club and Boxcar Children to discussions of Creative Nonfiction and how to write out what’s brewing inside.  But I hope we never get too grown-up for long afternoons by the pool or or empathic listening and laughter.

Today, she was on her way to “just be there” for someone who’s hurting.  She’s a steady, trustworthy friend, a gift she’s had for as long as I can remember.  I’m praying for you today, darlin’ – and thanks for still being my friend, too.