Today I was at communion of the son of my oldest friend. She kids me when I say oldest. I don’t mean her age. She is the friend I have had the longest. Although there are a few years missing where we lost touch for reasons that had nothing to do with “us”, she remains my oldest friend. Actually there were two other “girls” who are moms like me now that are also friends that go back to 2nd and 9th grade respectively. It’s like taking a walk back in time for a few hours when I am with them. My friend’s parents have known me longer that anyone else in the room. They have known me since I am six years old. I played in their house, slept over at their house more times than I could count. Her brothers were the kids from the block, like my own brothers.

When I am with these friends I am me. Cara. I am not someone’s wife or mother. I am not part of a package. I am just me. These are the people who know what my real hair color is! We sit and chat not as moms at first, although of course the conversation turns to that eventually. We are girls. Part of the group of girls that went through all teenage life had to offer. There are so many remember whens...that make us crack up, nothing that anyone else would find funny or “get”. It is just easy, reminding me when it was just easy to be me. Easy to just have to get up in the morning with nothing to worry about except if one of these girls will remember to bring the shirt to school that I wanted to borrow. Easy…to have Friday night to look forward to, being able to go out since it wasn’t a school night. They know all my teenage secrets all the things we did that we weren’t allowed to do…they were there for all my firsts. My first boyfriend, heartbreak, car. They share my history. They have in some way shaped who I am, the friend that I am today. I am so grateful for them. Grateful for all the memories we made. I am even more grateful that we can still see each other and pick up where we left off, and I hope we always stay in touch. I watched our kids run around with each other at the party. I thought how lucky I am that my oldest friend will now do my daughter’s hair for her Sweet Sixteen in a few weeks. It seems like only yesterday we agonized over what we were wearing to her Sweet 16.

It’s funny when I tell my kids that these women have been my friends since I was their age, they look at me like they can’t even imagine these 40something women ever being teenagers.
I wish for them friends who they can “remember when” with 25 years from now. And that it’s as important to them as it is to me.