College Roommate

My college roommate, C, and I have had an up and down friendship to be sure. We’ve put each other through huge challenges, of the best and worst kind, and been there for each other through some of the hardest and loveliest times in our lives. We’ve also had huge breaks in contact – years in fact. The last of which was more than 4 years. We’ve recently gotten back in touch and while there was some initial timidity on both our parts in the beginning, I think we’ve got the kinks worked out again. Although we’ve spent months only IM’ing and emailing – it was starting to feel like some sort of online relationship formed on some low-end dating site. But we talked on the phone today for the first time in years and although we began with fits and starts and a bit of hysterical laughter as we once again found our footing, at the end of our three and a half hour conversation, we were back to finishing each other’s sentences and giggling like the silly girls we can be.

She and her husband are in the process of adopting their first baby and I’m so over-the-top excited for them I can hardly sit still. And although I’m sure she’s tired of me tossing out tidbits of unsolicited advice, I’m just thrilled to be in her life to watch her become a mother.

In this time of change and shifting and continued transformation, I’m utterly thankful to have her back in my life. Mostly because I feel like I can use all the weapons I can shove into my arsenal and she is one of the most formidable women I’ve ever met. She’s brilliant to be sure, but she has tenacity the likes of which I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered.

At the core of our friendship, I think, is laughter. We make each other laugh without even trying. We can be unabashedly uncouth, bring out the sharpest sarcasm and driest sense of humor and still be in complete sync.

And there is the history. I am constantly reminded how comforting it is to share my life with people with whom I’ve shared history.

Reconnection

I cannot tell you how much I am loving reconnecting with old friends. Reestablishing friendships with people that I was always friendly with, but perhaps not the closest of friends. And now we have the chance to get to know each other all over again as the people we are now. As professionals and parents and whatever else we may find ourselves being and doing. It’s just such a gift to be able to have these people with whom I have history and be able to extend that history beyond what parties we went to on Saturday nights or what we wore or what boy or girl screwed us over. It’s just so lovely to be able to vault these friendships into the current day without losing the history.

I am such a radically different person now than I was in high school and college (and other than the tire around my waist and spreading childbearing hips, it’s all for the better). And for a while when I was coming back into contact with old friends I worried that they would see the me I am now and wish for the me I was then. But I’m finding that we’re almost entirely able to just take each other where we are now, for who we are now, while still remaining grounded in the history we’ve shared. There is just really something about having known someone for 15 years or more that provides a foundation that is so safe.

I love to watch these people be parents. I love to watch their kiddos who look so much like them test them and push them in new and different ways; I love to watch them laugh with their children and significant others. I love to talk about big world events now that we have all travelled and studied and expanded our world views. I love to see how our experiences and loves and sorrows and passions have shaped us.

I just have such deep gratitude for the chance to renew friendships with people I thought I’d never see again. To be given the opportunity to relish in shared history as we watch our children create their own.

History

I love my girlfriends. I had the chance today to get together with a group of women, about half of whom I’ve not seen in at least 7 years, if not more like 10. Some were sorority sisters, some old friends from college. We laughed like I’ve not laughed in a long time and drank Bellini’s and Mimosa’s. We told stories, both old and new. We relived our glory days and our yesterdays. It was wonderful. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to be with so many women with whom I have history.

It’s a funny thing. Having history with people. Sometimes that history can be tainted with heartbreak or guilt, but for me, most of the time it just serves to ground me in my friendship with some amazing people. People who have seen both the best and the worst of me. People that have seen me triumph and fall flat on my face. People that I’ve cheered, and yes, sometimes jeered. But mostly, people that I’ve loved.

That’s probably the thing I miss most about where I live now. Even though I’ve met wonderful people here, and even though I’ve now lived here for 7 years, there isn’t a lot of history to my friendships here. Certainly not like the history I have with one of my oldest and dearest friends T. I’ve known her for 20 years. My history with her is riddled with hope and joy, loss and pain, months and sometimes years of losing touch, lots of laughter and tears, lots of cocktails and red beers and lots and lots of history.

History. It’s such a tangible force for me. Whenever I get to see T, I know automatically, almost reflexively, that I can say and or do anything and not only will she not judge me, but she’ll just get it. When I went to Paris and went to the Louvre, the sculptures and paintings mostly served to ground me in my humanity. Every time I go to the mountains and marvel at the age of the rock beneath my feet, it ties me to the earth. History, with people, with things, makes me real.