It is hard to look back without the weight of history and knowledge altering the memories of how we met and who she was. Back then, she seemed like a sprite, a beautiful light that moved through the world touching those around her with magic. She was loved by so many. It is easy to describe her looks, and while she is stunning, she is so much more than those golden curls, and looks that have had so many falling for her.
She was also threat but not. My then relationship adored her, and perhaps I would have been more jealous if I thought that he ever stood a chance with her. He was barely a blip on her radar, just another boy who wished he was closer to her. The hurt of him adoring her, was no different than the hurt of him adoring any of the others that he held above me. I do not want this to be about him, though without him I would never had the chance to know her.
For a short while it was the four of us. Her person, and me and mine. Then though I was just me, and because of that I got the chance to meet her. Does all this make sense? The him, the her, them, us? There were other partners and people who came into our orbit, but they are not here now. After all these years it is just her and I. His ghost haunts us sometimes, but we are so much more now then we were then.
After it was just me, she did so much to keep me from being alone. She offered Sunday dinners, outings, and a job at her tasting room. Our friendship grew so slowly. Trust that her friendship was real came ever so slowly to me. How could this gorgeous woman who was truly adored by so many want to be my friend? Those days in the tasting room were like watching a movie where the actress played herself. So much was shared with those she cared for. Strangers would leave thinking they were bosom buddies, men were convinced she loved them, women begged her to go on spa days and long vacations with them.
I learned so much about her though. So much that she did not share with all those folks who believed that she was their best friend. There was tragedy, grief, guilt that she should not hold, children she fretted over, loved and wished all the world for. She has a wicked intelligence that few get to see. So few people saw beyond who she was at the tasting room. She has the gift of turning the conversation to you, and before you know it you have shared all while she holds herself close.
I wish that I had half her talent with words. While I still am in awe of her gift with people, I know that gift is a weight she carries. It is a heavy mask that these past few years she does not put on as much. For so long she let obligation and duty hold her spirit down. Though she might not see it that way. She gave so much of herself then. My heart is happier that those burdens are less for her.
When I look back at those first days I think first of that blithe character she played, and then the truth of who she really is settles over that memory. I see the complex, gorgeous, truly brilliant person she truly is. It is as if those memories have subtitles now. Telling the truth of who she is and was. Now, she chooses to no longer hold sway over crowds in the tasting room. Now, she walks the shore, her spirit holds less grief and sadness, but her soul is deeper now, her heart more open to those she loves. She moves through the world differently. She is still a beautiful spirit but now her soul seems more connected to the earth.
I think of all the conversations we have had over the last 21 years. I would not be the mother I am without her sharing her life with me. I would not be still trying to write if it was not for her. I would not be me without her. How do you encompass 21 years of friendship into one post of a few paragraphs? How do you take the beautiful complexity that she is and distill it down to just these words? It is impossible to encompass all that she is, and all that she has meant to me here in this post. Our friendship has traveled over so many subjects, heartbreaks, loss, joy, celebration, change, growth, forgiveness, farewells and new starts.
I will mention him just one last time. I regret the years I lost while with him and regret the me I lost over those 9 years. Sometimes I wish I could change the past and not have lost those years, but always I quickly realize that without those years of struggle I would not have had her in my life, and would not have the amazing gift of her as my friend and part of my soul.
Snapshots of Them 
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