If there is one area in my life where I have been eternally fortunate it is in my friendships. Along with the endless support and the daily reality check I get from my family, I draw so much strength, inspiration and courage from my friends. In the past few years alone I've been broken-hearted, unsure about my decision to go back to school, lonely, discouraged and now stuck looking for work. I know none of these problems are as tragic or trying as illness, real poverty or the loss of a loved one. But they have been stumbling blocks, and I found myself leaning again and again on the same people. I could go on and on here but the point really is that I try never to forget how lucky I am or how lost I'd be without all of you.
One friend in particular has been on my mind lately.
She is about to bring her first little one into the world and it hasn't been the easiest pregnancy. She's far, far away so I can't spend time keeping her company while she's on forced bed-rest like I wish I could. Her husband, also a dear friend, has been her anchor, and so I know she is in good hands. Still, I wish I could transport myself to Japan right now to make her tea and paint her toenails.
I met Karen for the first time at a Navy football game three years ago. This was a big moment for me. I had heard so much about her husband and this was a grown-up "couple" activity. You know how you meet someone and just click? It happens with boys but it also happens with your girlfriends -- I bet this has happened to most of the people who've met Karen. She brought a camera and was taking pictures while the boys chatted. Photography was one of her recent hobbies -- one of many I would discover. We chatted and then the next week she sent me photos from the afternoon. Soon the four of us became attached at the hip.
When we went to her house for the first time, I remember exchanging glances with N that probably said -- "oh my god, grownups live here." There was actual matching furniture. A candle (cranberrry chutney -- yup, I took note and went out and bought the same candle like a good little sis) was burning in the bathroom. Karen cooked. And she cooked well. Basically I felt like I was 25-going-on-19 when we were together.
The thing is that if she was recounting our first few meetings she'd tell you a completely different version of events. That was the great thing about the two of us -- we had such mutual interest in each other's talents and ambitions.
Not long after we met, the four of us embarked on some very big adventures -- in three very different parts of the world. Even though N and I often said how much we wanted to keep Karen and Greg in our lives forever, I wasn't sure it would work out as work and personal obligations pulled us in different directions. I should have known better. Karen started e-mailing me as I settled into school and she settled into a new and challenging life in Japan. Once again I found myself living vicariously through her. She soaked up the culture. She took an interest in native activities. She stepped out of her comfort zone on a daily basis. And she chronicled all of her adventures on a funny, smart and irreverent blog that quickly gained fans beyond her friend base.
When my relationship with N ended, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to maintain my friendship with Karen. The four of us had been so close but I was suddenly the odd man out. Again Karen reached out. In the past two years, our friendship has evolved into something entirely new and separate. This meandering entry doesn't come close to doing justice to this woman or her quick-witted, driven, self-depricating and warm personality. She embodies her strength so effortlessly. I was lying in bed last night and I thought of a Maya Angelou
poem that I hadn't read since high school. The
phenomenal woman is Karen.
When I first met Karen, becoming a mom wasn't an immediate priority. In the last year though -- when she decided she was ready to have children -- she approached it in the same classic Karen-style. She researched and prepared, she stepped out of her comfort zone, she documented the key moments with the same light-hearted but astute observations that have characterized all of passionate endeavors.
With parents like these two, this little boy is going to have it made. Now if they would just quit being so successful and adventurous and move back to town....
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care
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