It occurs to me that the best of my friends feel like family. And the best of my family feel like friends. That while some of my friendships are decades deep and that counts for so much, others exist between people who’ve never met, and yet… they, too, are an invaluable piece of the precious whole.
Well hell’s bells. Aren’t I lucky…
So it’s hardly enough, these few words on this wordless day, but it’s my own small tribute to each of you… and all of you.
To you who inspires me.
To you who reminds me to trust myself.
To you who feeds the birds in your nightgown.
To you whose favourite day of the week is garbage day.
To you who will discuss the blue painting in a way that opens up its possibilities (not everyone can do this) and not flinch when the ribs are cooked in saran wrap.
To you who has lost so much yet continues to give (please, please… receive also… this, at least).
To you who appears like a gift on my porch.
To you who never fails to make me laugh. Until I can barely breathe.
To you with whom I make pickled string beans.
To you with whom I have occasionally been pickled.
To you who I only see a few times a year but surely have known since before forever and with whom conversations never end but merely resume.
To you who was first to run away and who showed me how, and who never really left.
To you who is going through the worst of times and yet you smile that beautiful smile, all eyes and cheeks and teeth, so sincere, and as real as your tears.
To you who loves dogs.
To you who loves cats.
To you who makes places for the bees to land and drink water from tiny pebbles in a dish.
To you who likes happy endings.
To you who has no idea how much you’ve taught me by being vulnerable and open and a mess. Because you never were. Look at you. Heroic.
To you who makes art that hangs on my walls.
To you who makes art that lives on my bookshelves.
To you who finds such peace in your music.
To you who has nothing in your fridge because your world has turned upside down and because you have no appetite and when I come to sit and chat at your table over tea, which is already more than enough, you place a bowl of pickled onions and boiled eggs in front of me and say eat.
To you who lives with impossibly beautiful views.
To you who lives three feet from a brick wall.
To you who I drive three days to see and then don’t. Because because. But I so look forward to seeing you. Again.
To you who do the best you can.
To you who walk and dance and sing with me, for real or in my imagination matters not… because I know you would if I asked.
To you. Especially.
Ten thousand thanks.
May the season be merry and bright… and bring you laughter
Other wordless friends: