Meet Liz!

This is Lizzie.  She made a trip out from Connecticut to come see me--I mean, us--this January.

(Lizzie and her handsome husband, Dave!)

My kids loved Lizzie.  They played endless rounds of hide and go seek together.  They invaded her privacy and had to use the potty almost every time she took a shower or shut the door.  They took her hairbrush to play with, and her cell phone.  I'm sure they rooted around in her luggage and in general pestered her for her undivided attention.  And she gave it.  Which was so wonderful.  But not, at the same time, because--hey!  I thought she was supposed to be visiting me!  It seemed like I had myself some competition.  Being away from my five siblings for the past eight years or so made me forget what it was like to have to compete for attention with my friendships.  Good thing Elliott and Caiden are so cute.  I guess I can share my friends with them...

Elliott has this old VHS tape called Wee Sing in Sillyville.  Some of you may have heard of it.  Its pretty '80's fabulous.  Anyway, there is this one particular song on there that goes, "Make new friends, but keep the old."  I think I finally get that.  It is so nice to make new friends.  I love all my new friends.  They are so dear to me.  They encourage me all the time and keep me company and meet me for coffee and we have fun getting to know each other.  But having an old friend is such a beautiful thing.  The easiness and smooth feel of it.  It is so comfortable and nice, like an old shoe.  Having Liz here was like finding an old pair of my favorite shoes that were tucked away in the back of my closet somewhere that I finally found and took out and got to wear for a few days.  Once I put them on, I remembered exactly how it feels to be in them.  I knew exactly how to walk in them, I knew where they are worn and what their strong points and weak points are.  I was reminded of how well they compliment all of my outfits.  Oh, how I love that old pair of shoes.  I wish I could wear them all time.

There was also an element of newness there, too, of course.  We are both now almost 26, not 16 anymore.  She's in law school and works for a state senator and I have two kids.  At night time, instead of lying in bed side by side and giggling about boys, I lie on the pull out bed next to her and talk until I see her eyes start to get heavy and then I get up and get into bed with my husband.  It was beautiful to see all the ways she's grown and changed, and the ways she's still the same.  It was also a gift of enormous proportion to see and understand all the ways we are actually very similar, when in highschool it always seemed we were so diverse.  It was good to remember how easy it is to be with her.  Someone you can take anywhere and not have to worry about whether they're having a good time or not.  You can just... be.

(If this picture were taken 10 years ago, we wouldn't be sitting in a hip coffee shop sipping loose leaf tea and french pressed coffee.  We would be sitting in a diner called, Twin Colony, with two cups of crappy coffee and sharing a blueberry muffin that we managed to scrounge up change for in the nooks and crannys of her car.  I'm pretty sure you saved my life, with your friendship, back then, Lizzie.)

It is good to have years and history with a person.  Someone who has seen you when you were young and stupid.  Someone who was young and stupid with you.  Someone who has stuck by you all these years and still cares about you and would still choose you if they met you today.

Liz and Me at 15. (My email used to be "sneakergirl25" or something like that. Nice.)

I moved a lot growing up and spent a lot of time around people much older than me, so I don't have a lot of these.  So Lizzie is pretty darn special to me.  And her family, too.

I didn't take many pictures...  Shame on me.