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Posts Tagged ‘Growing up’

 

Suzanne Wedding

October 1989

Bill and I are going to a wedding this Merry Month of May 2018.

It’s the little girl in the photo!

Her name is Suzanne.

We were there to greet her a few days after she was born.

Then she and her family came to visit us often in Rural Virginia.

There goes Time.

She created imaginary pizzas with Bill and went on hikes and swimming

with her Dad.

And of course, small town exploring in Lexington, Virginia with her Mom and me.

There goes Time again.

We shared happy days and stories through all her growing up years.

And we were there to celebrate her graduation from a college in Vermont.

And still she came to visit and loved our dogs and the country livin’.

She loved Carrie the Golden Retriever best and walks in the woods

and all the giggles.

And now we will be there for Suzanne’s wedding.

There goes Time.

There goes Time.

 

 

 

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I have a friend.

She has been my friend forever.

I can hardly believe that myself, but it is true.

We grew up playing paperdolls, hopscotch, riding bikes, trying on her big sister’s clothes.

We grew up “spending the night”, talking until 2AM about boys and dreams.

We grew up writing letters with real pens on paper and sent with stamps by snail mail.

We grew up, got married and had children.

And we grew up sharing – always sharing – all the joys and problems of life, love, and parenthood.

And the greatest thing is, we grew up always laughing.

And we are still growing up!  And sharing – always sharing – all the joys and problems of life, love and aging.

She is my Oldest Best Friend Forever and her name is Kit.

She just sent me this card and I will cherish it –  forever.

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20160215_180533

A chalk drawing of a little girl

always hung in a living room space.

She’s all grown up now of course,

but it still holds an honored place.

The little girl was me before

 and hangs again on our living room wall,

a reminder of who I once was growing up

and who I am still, after all.

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Daily Prompt

Oil, Meet Water

Of the people who are close to you, who is the person most unlike you?  What makes it possible for you to get along?

Kit Vegas 04

Kit is my oldest, closest friend –  friends since we were eleven years old.

She named herself Kit the Wit when we first met.

And she named me Dort the Snort (not particularly flattering but I took the humiliation).

We still go by those insanely silly names and when we are shopping together she will holler out, “Hey Snort, look at this!”

And I will say, “That looks great on you Wit.”

And she signs her letters, “Love, Wit.”   And mine are, “Love, Snort.”

The names no longer sound funny to us but I’ll bet they do to the rest of the world.

Kit and I are total opposites in almost every way.

She is disorganized.  I am organized.

She is fun loving.  I am serious.

She is pinned together.  I am put together.

I never put things off ‘til later.  Kit procrastinates.

I am always early.  She is always late.

She sleeps past noon.  I am up with the birds.

I am careful.  Kit rushes headlong into the next adventure.

KIT GREAT SHOT 2004

What makes it possible for us to get along?

Laughter.

 We cannot talk long without doubling over laughing.

Trust.

I know I can trust Kit with anything and can share my most secret thoughts.  And I know she feels the same.  We share a mutual trust.

Silliness.

When we are together we are “girls” again, talking until 3:00 AM like when we used to “spend the night” together.

 Differences.

Maybe it is because we are opposites we so enjoy each other and that was what drew us together in the first place.

Value.

I value Kit for her free spirit and her abandoned uninhibited approach to life.  And I suspect she admires my careful analyses of life’s dangers before I jump into things.

There is only one catch.  After three days under the same roof, we weaken from lack of sleep and there is a rapid decline in communication.  You might say that after three days “we are at each others’ throats.”

Memories.

But we are like sisters who occasionally fight.   I have known Kit longer than I knew my own parents.  We played paper dolls, rode bikes, giggled over boys, traded clothes, dated, married, had kids and grandkids and have stayed friends all these many years.  We have so many memories ranging from childhood to old age and we share a rare and beautiful friendship that has endured over decades.

If you are reading this Wit, I love you.

Wits End

 

 

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It was a special time when my grandgirls came to visit this last weekend.

They are practically young women now and each more charming and beautiful than the next.

Mackenzie owns a driver’s permit but doesn’t have much chance to drive, so I gave her the keys to my car and said, “Let’s go!”  How proud and serious she was behind the wheel; how eager to leave childhood and prove what she can do and be.

And off we went down my gravel road.  “Take a sharp right here Macky and let’s go to the old barn so I can see what you can do,” I said.   And then, “Pull in here Mack – at the big barn, and let’s just rest a moment and take a look around. “ And as we climbed out of the car, a lovely palomino horse quickly stuck her head out.  “Visit me please, visit me,” she was clearly saying with the sweetest look of hope in her eyes.

Please Visit Me!

“What a beauty she (the horse) is,” I thought, and “What a beauty she (the girl) is too”.

My Mackenzie and the sweet horse connected and I got a little choked up feeling like I might begin to cry.

“Visit me!  Visit me!” the horse had seemed to say, and Macky’s response was automatic.  She was a little girl once again, with time to be that child.  And I managed to get a picture or two of the fleeting love between a lonely horse and a visiting girl that touched my heart.

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