Watch Over Us

The summer that I was seventeen I slept over at my friend Meghan's house one August night.  It was the summer after my friends and I had graduated from high school; all of us just weeks away from our moves to respective colleges in various cities and states, to beginning our lives as college freshman.  We - myself, Meg, and our friend Alicia - slept in the front den of Meghan's house, having fallen asleep the night before to some romantic comedy we started watching at midnight, each of us sprawled across a couch or love seat, soda cans, stale Twizzlers and Snicker bar wrappers discarded on the coffee table.  

I woke early the following morning to the sound of a summer rainfall outside the open window.  The house was quiet, my friends both still sound asleep.  Eventually I too fell back asleep, waking hours later when the rest of the house began stirring.  In that brief moment near dawn though, as I watched my quiet hometown out of Meg's front window and, in turn, looked at the two friends I was probably closest to throughout high school, I remember taking stock, of noticing, of being aware.

For I knew even then, that in a matter of weeks/days/hours that everything in our lives was about to change. Your world wonderfully expands when you really leave home for the first time and it wasn't that I wasn't looking forward to that, to whatever adventures awaited in my own personal life.  But I knew as I laid there on that quiet rainy morning that we would never go back, that our worlds as we had known them - all of us had lived in South Jersey for virtually all of our lives - would never again return to the quiet innocence that it had held those four years we spent together in high school or to that last summer when we were all together.

Sometimes, late at night, when I can't fall asleep, I think back to that morning.  Even some sixteen years later it brings me a sense of calm and comfort I can't quite put my finger on, yet one I cherish with all of my soul.

******  

Thankfully, wonderfully, Alicia and Meghan are still very much a part of my life, as is our other high school friend who made up our foursome, Moira.  For years now we've taken turns visiting one another in our various cities and homes, of doing our best to catch up whenever we all find ourselves back home in New Jersey.  It can be challenging to find time or weekends that work for all of us, particularly now that husbands, babies, houses, careers, and all the other trappings of adult life have come along, but we make it a priority to stay in touch, to stay connected.  

Last weekend we reunited in Virginia, just outside of Washington, DC in Alicia's new very grown-up, brand new, beautiful house.  We spent the weekend swapping stories, catching up, laughing over old adventures until our sides hurt.  We snuggled Alicia's seven month old son, we drank wine, we ate well.

At some point during our chatter Friday night, I brought up a theory my brother and I have long since shared about Reese's Peanut Butter cups and their various packaging methods versus quality Reese's taste.  For years my brother and I have maintained that Reese's taste the best only when they come in a classic two pack..nothing else compares.  As I explained all of this in intricate detail to my friends - who shockingly, given all the years I have known them - had never heard my theory, someone suggested we hold a blind taste test to validate my claim.

So it came to be, late on a Saturday night, after a day of touring Virginia's wineries and eating a delicious dinner, we drove to the nearest 24 hour grocery store to purchase the necessary supplies.  Namely, every type of Reese's possible.

In the end, the group was split 50/50, two of us agreeing with the RIGHT answer (my theory) and the other two going against the grain.  Obviously I don't really care what their opinions on the Reese's were, that's not the point.  As we sat together in Alicia's basement, in our pj's, chocolate all around us, and giggling at almost 1 AM over ridiculousness, I once again had to take a breath, take stock, be aware.

In that moment I offered up a silent and quick prayer of gratitude - that we are all still here, all of us still friends.  We are healthy, for the most part happy and successful, very fortunate, very lucky, and so truly, amazingly blessed.

******

With Thanksgiving around the corner, we will all ideally take a moment to be grateful, to remember our good fortunes, and to be thankful.  One of the greatest blessings in my life has always been the truly amazing friends I have known, the friends that I have in my life - both old and new ones. I am extraordinarily thankful for this gift - all of these gifts - of friendship.  

It may sound cheesy and corny and schmaltzy to say it, but I don't know where or who I would be without my friends...both my 'high school girls' and those friends I've met in the years beyond. For each and every one of them has made me laugh, held my hand as I cried, shared so many of life's experiences with me. They have lifted me up when I've needed them the most, just as I have tried to do for them.  Together we've hashed things out, examined every type of problem - from what to wear to prom to what career choices to make - you can think of. They've emphasized with me when I'm angry, given me a knowing hug when they've understood.  We've stood together during weddings, encouraged one another through life's various phases, always supportive, no matter what's around the bend.  

And, of course, we've always shared chocolate.  

There will always be chocolate.