Heart Connections
I just returned from a reunion with my high school girlfriends. We’ve had many such reunions over the years, though when we had families and were in the thick of life, they weren’t so frequent - and for sure they didn’t involve a whole weekend away. This group of friends has stood the test of time. Many of these ladies started school together in kindergarten - others a bit later. Me? I came to the group late, a shy, awkward parochial school transplant to the local high school where I had big dreams and lofty expectations of what those four years would be like. Some of those dreams came true; many were shattered early on. But the friendships I made with these girls, who welcomed me into their bright circle of friendship, far surpassed what I could have imagined.
None of us made it into that coveted “cool kids” group; we weren’t cheerleaders, or amazing athletes. We didn’t date the football team captain, nor did we stand out among the crowd for our blinding cuteness. We didn’t fit in with the hippie crowd (though there were some weeks and months when some of us tried that on for size, then moved on...), nor were we the rebels. We were ordinary girls, sometimes awkward, sometimes lonely, often confused. Yet - we shared one thing: we were passionate. Passionate for our causes, passionate about friendship, passionate for justice and the environment; passionate for doing good and bringing about goodness in a world that seemed off kilter and confusing in those turbulent years.
Was it our passion that brought us together? I don’t know, really. For most of us I think, it was the need to belong, to be part of a greater whole. We created our own group-identity and imbued it with the qualities we respected and admired. We were the “good girls”, and we came to like that about ourselves, recognizing that although we tried on rebellion for size, it just didn’t fit. We were the girls who did well in our studies, and got along well with our parents - more or less, (as much as any teenager does) - and survived our teens the better for it.
After high school and college, we got together through the years, though there were some gaps - sometimes two or three years. And still; we made the effort to revisit the friends of our youth. During our visits, our conversations changed as we grew up and grew older. We shared our new loves and attended each other’s weddings. We compared notes on careers, and new homes. We congratulated each other as we had children, and stood by the ones who struggled to conceive at all. We supported each other as our parents became ill one by one, and as they passed away. Support continued through cancer, divorce; through job changes and transfers; no matter what, a date for lunch or dinner was eventually agreed upon, and we’d settle in for an afternoon or evening of ooohing and aaahing at photos of children and trips, of conversation and food, sharing those things that stirred our hearts with these stalwarts from our youth.
It’s been 46 years since we graduated from high school, and our coming together again to reconnect seems to grow in importance each year. Perhaps it’s our growing wisdom, our graying hair - the deepening laugh lines bearing witness to lives well lived, but acknowledging nonetheless the inevitable pain of loving well, and sometimes losing. We’ve become women who recognize the value of connection, of community - of touching base with old friends, simply because in the end - they understand us best.
Last weekend was our second time away for an entire weekend in two years, and we discovered in this past weekend a deeper sense of the treasure we’ve always had in each other, and in our faithfulness to friendship, to community. We have refined and polished the touchstone of our friendship, marveling how perfectly we connect emotionally - in spite of the years. Spending 72 hours or so with these amazingly loving and brave women as we cooked together, drank wine together, laughed and cried together, sharing the past year’s life together, we grew more emboldened to be vulnerable, to share our deepest selves, to risk it all, to drop all pretense and be real. The shared history, the palpable care of long-term friends brought forth our pain and sorrow, the jagged rock of heartache that sits hard-deep in each of us. We shared our joys, our triumphs and successes, yes; but we also shared our disappointments and tragedies, our struggles, at times, to make sense of a world that doesn’t always feel welcoming or easy. And we dreamed together of our futures, uncertain as we grow older, each still bearing the burdens we’ve been given. The tableau in each of our lives will play out differently, but in sharing the laughter, the dreams, the visions, I think each one of us took away a renewed sense of purpose, of strength, and most of all - of commitment to continue this rare treasure of time together.
It was a weekend no amount of paid therapy from a trained professional could equal, for in the end - nothing replaces the love and care of girlfriends - girls who have matured into loving, caring women who’ve learned - because of the brave act of living itself - to reach out, grab a hand, lend an ear and simply listen. Simply love. These ladies have learned that rare and fine art of friendship, and my life is ever the richer for it. I think they would say the same, too.
Until next year!