For Heather

My hair whipped into my eyes, slashing through them and making them tear.  My arms were covered in goosebumps, and I huddled closer to the other purple-clad warriors in their sleeveless satin uniforms. It was cold, it was windy, and I was blissfully enjoying every second of it, watching one of my oldest friends embracing her husband (her hair perfectly coiffed in a hairsprayed updo that a tornado wasn't moving).

This past weekend was one of reminiscing, romancing, and reconnecting.  I spent much of the weeks leading up to it composing a scrapbook of memories for the bride.  I collected pages from her wedding party, her high school friends, her college friends, and even her high school prom date, before adding in the ones from myself.  Pouring over pages and pages of my own scrapbooks, I wove together a friendship that started in girl scouts, ebbed through the tumultuous outcast middle school years, and into high school, college, and beyond.

Glancing through the photographs, I had flashbacks.

To girl scouts, Troop 49, sitting cross legged in the basement on an worn fabric couch, eating cookies and apple juice while formulating plans for the completion of patches.

To 8th grade, when we were "so popular", we managed to get a room for just the two of us on our trip to Washington, DC, when everyone else was in groups of four.

To high school, belting out songs from The Indigo Girls and Rent, nursing broken hearts through music, and dreaming of the day we'd walk down the aisle with the great love(s) of our lives.

To graduation on a boat, her sitting with me while I cried at the end of a chapter of my life on a metal staircase, when she looked out at the lights of New York reflecting in the choppy black water, and pulled me onto the dance floor, pushing me to my future.

To college, when my heart was destroyed twice, and she held my hand through both.

To when my dad died, and she showed up at 12:30 AM with a half eaten bag of Oreos, and a bottle of Diet Coke, choking through her tears "I didn't know what to do, so I brought these."

To after I grew up, when I needed to escape, and she drove through 3000 miles with me, laughing through the car breaking down, talking me through a panic attack in Nevada, and hugging me and telling me I was brave in California.

To my wedding, dancing and laughing as we twirled around the dance floor.

To when my daughter was born, and she held her for the first time, saying "You MADE this!" in awe and delight.
To the Indigo Girls concert in our 30s, dancing and singing up a storm while the glow of her iphone lit up the world, drinking in every note and reminding me what it was to be young.

To her engagement, when I stood in an aquarium store and squealed, jumping up and down as the fish made a beeline to the backs of their tanks

And now to her wedding- when I couldn't hold back the tears as she was escorted down the aisle by her parents, a perfect smile on her face.  And I couldn't hold back the pride and the smile of knowing that we had finally made it.  To the next great adventure, the next great gab session, the next of everything.