Tuesday, March 31, 2015



We met on Garden street, well the back alley of Garden street. While the back alleys seem to fit our curious demeanors a name like "Garden Street" certainly evokes the thought of a place green and lush, serene and bountiful, secretive and creative...alive. Definitely the evolution of this great friendship we have so eagerly maintain.
Becky is often my inspiration, my creative soul mate, my goat shed hugger, my favorite cinnamon roll binger, my ego and that one who's little voice in her head...talks to mine.
A couple of weeks ago, I bought this beaded bracelet, 7 bucks! Of course, I am never satisfied with the items at the top of the basket, so I dug through and found this single one at the bottom. Different than the rest so it must be mine. Yep, I live that way, on the edge or the bottom or wherever "different" might be leading me. BTW, Becky gets that too, she lives that way.
We had a much needed girls day today, she saw my bracelet, she loved it...of course. So I took her over to the store where I bought it, disappointed there was not an exact match...oh god! Funny, how we both silently knew that it had to be that "one", it meant something. The clerk found one, Becky cut the tags off right there at the counter and put it on, a moment of excited relief. We walked out with our new soul bracelets.
We walked, we talked, we inspired each other, we shared life, we let the day lead us, we ate Mexican food and smiled like young girls when the waitress noticed our matching bracelets and said we must be BFF's, she called us "cute", HA! I suppose we are those things too.
What I like best about our friendship is not all the things we do or the talking and laughing, it's the other stuff, the quiet moments, the rawness of it, the times when no words need to be spoken, nothing needs to be explained because she knows or we know and perhaps we have always known these two souls.
Sometimes many months go by, we get eager and find that not a single moment has passed and we pick up where we left off. The lines are always open, sometimes in a quiet, meditative hum, we connect in there, between the lines.

Me : "God Becky, I hope when we grow older we will find ourselves living close to one another"
She replied : "I've always thought it would be that way"
Me : "Me too"

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