Girlfriends

As a writer, I spend a lot of time alone--and usually that's okay, because left to my own devices, I can be a bit of a loner. But like most women, I’ve got a secret weapon to pull me into the social stream--my girlfriends.

Girlfriends hold you up when you're down. They make you laugh and hug you, hold your hand, or just sit quietly by your side when you cry. And, hey, who else will talk you into buying those shoes/clothes/you-name-it that you really want but are rationalizing yourself out of?

I have a few separate circles of women friends with the occasional intermix or crossover. I have my long-time friends that I’ve known forever and with whom I can pick up a conversation like no time at all has passed even if it's been a while since we've seen each other. I have writer friends that in the beginning I had only a vocation in common but with whom I’ve forged lasting friendships. My closest writer-chick circle is comprised of several of us who started out at roughly the same time. We grew up in the industry together and although we’re spread out over several states and two continents (so only see each other periodically) we talk frequently either online or by phone. I also have two event-specific groups comprised of women I rarely see outside those events but who fill the time we spend together with so much laughter and comraderie that I always come away feeling refreshed and smiling.

But my dearest friend is Mimi. She and I met through my oldest brother, who worked with her husband Doug. We might have remained simply friendly acquaintances had she and Doug not bought a house on our block. Our husbands hit it off as well and we started getting together occasionally...then more often...then darn near every Saturday night until the kids got to that age where their events start taking up your every waking hour. And during those barbeques, shopping trips, card games, and endless conversations, she became my best friend. We share a history that spans thirty years and encompasses husbands, kids and pets, books and food, joys and sorrows. She was there for me when my dad and my sister-in-law died. I was there for her when she went into labor with her second son. In fact, I thought for sure I was going to deliver him because she was too stubborn to go to the hospital until Doug got there to take her. Yeah, yeah, this is the pot calling the kettle black. But honest-to-God, she was on the phone lying to the doctor, telling him her contractions were ten minutes apart, while I--who'd been timing them --was yelling in the background, “Five minutes! They’re FIVE MINUTES APART!”

Cough. But I wander away from the point. Sometimes you're lucky enough to find a friend who hits on all cylinders for you--who gets your humor and roots for your successes and commiserates with your failures. Who shares meals and comfort with equal generosity and who loves you simply for the person you are, warts and all. That's what I got with Mimi.

Who is special in your life? I'd love to hear.