Nature Walks and Talks

Dear Mal,     What a refreshing and heart warming letter that brought me down delicious, if not slightly chubby, memory lane. It's probably a good thing that Ben and Jerry's doesn't make "One Sweet World" anymore, because my resolve to never buy ice cream would be over. You made a comment about how I grew out of the chick flick phase sooner than you did, I never really thought about that, but all that means is that I got cynical sooner than you did, and it's that I'm hoping I grow out of first.     And just for the record, upon reflection, I really truly do care about your silly ramblings, and I also think it's awesome, and I feel so happy that you confidently know that I do care.     I was trying to imagine what my current "Perfect Girls Night" scenario would be, because you're right, it definitely needs to be lower in both fat and sap. So picture this: we cook a deliciously fresh healthy meal, eat it outside on my porch while watchin

Dear Meg, I feel like our first two posts were so large in impact that anything following them might just sound silly. But being silly is one of the best parts of our friendship! So, oh well if this letter isn't as deep as the ocean, as high as the sky. I'm just going to ramble silly nothings at you because, frankly, I know you actually care. (I'm so lucky.) Tonight I am craving chocolate and sparkling cider, but I have three sleeping kids and a husband at the office until late so, thankfully, I will not be able to go to the store and binge on junky goodness. Oh, but I want to. Remember One Sweet Whirled? Is that where our obsession with coffee flavors originated? And of course, Cafe Rio salads, Chili's desserts, pizza, watermelon, and ??Strawberries with mint leaves?? Just kidding. It's funny to think about how delightful food and a good chick flick used to be to me. Not as much anymore. I mean, don't get me wrong. Food is LIFE! But I don't really s

Dear Mal,     Reading your letter on sharing brought up a lot of things for me.  You seem to have a way of saying things at the right time to help me overcome my insecurities.     It seems like you beat me to a lot of things in life.  While I was single,  you were married.  When you had a child, I had a classroom full of unruly sixth graders and a heart still lonely.  When you became more financially stable,  my husband and I were pinching borrowed pennies. I have always found enormous amount of comfort and peace in our friendship,  and was always easily forgiving of any minor flaws you had.   A sad thing happens in mind.  Each time I have to vent,  unload, or  seek a floatation device in the drowning depths, I do so with a tinge of guilt. "I don't want to be a burden to my friends. " "I don't want to be a buzz kill" "I want to be my old silly fun self". Yet as you pointed out,  I still have shared my sorrow and my joys with you,  and you have

Dear Meg, I was thinking today about sharing. The kind of sharing that you do when you have a real friend. Last night when you called and announced that Sean passed his test, I couldn't contain my squeal of joy, (it even scared the kids). I felt happy just knowing that you have what you have wanted for so long. Later that night, I thought about the morning you texted to tell me that Rachel passed away. I sat on my porch in the warm summer light and sobbed. I didn't think about how terrible that day was for you. I felt it. There is something so drowning about my own emotions. I feel swept away with my own joy. I am suffocated by my own suffering. But there is a unique quality to the emotions I share with you. They enrich my spirit, they make me grow, they make me better. I'm so glad for your happy news, and I ache for your still recent and raw loss. But I also thank you for letting me share in those emotions, and so many more. Being your friend has made my life mor