Renewal

There's something about her familiar face, her familiar life, the long line from our history to our present, the witnessing, the love, the knowledge. There's something about the comfort and the trust, something about sitting across the table from her that soothes and calms every single thing within me.

She opens the door, opens her arms. I hug her and she holds me tight. She won't let go, though her girls grab my legs and her mother joins us and wraps her arms around ours. This moment, this right here, this is ours and it lifts me, high. It steadies me and I realize the smile beneath my dreamy closed eyes is alive.

At dinner, she pulls the demons from my head, the pain from my heart. There were times in the past month that she carried me, across the miles that separate us she managed to connect and carry me. She reaches for me now. Her belief in me reminds me of the feet on which I stand, of my strength and from where it came. She allows my heart. It's hard to be broken by a love you believed in, but it's easy to be healed by a love you believe in. That's who she is, celebrating, healing, understanding, pushing, pulling, trying, and always loving. That's who we are. Always the love and solidity of this friendship. She reminds me I'm still learning how to live, that we all are.

She gives me logic, understands my own. She undoes my fears, heals my suffering, unlocks the door and sets me free. It's a two-way street, she'd tell you, equal parts giving and receiving. Different times of need, different needs, different giving. But needing and giving, equally devoted. Lately, I've needed more than she, but we trust the pulse of our path.

Sitting atop the feed bins at the polo club -- me in my teens, she barely there -- we had no idea then what seeds we were planting, that our conversation would never slow, never end, that the damp smell of hay and oats and horses would that day swirl across our bodies and through our hearts and be the cement of our bond. No idea the long journey we'd begun to unfold, the experiences and lessons we'd share, weather, mourn, celebrate. No idea then the ribbons of the gift we were unwrapping, the promises we had begun to make. And keep.

Her friendship is my ritual, my satisfaction, my pride. She's the one person I've loved so long and never lost. She is here now and I don't mind admitting that I need her now. I need the energy of her life, the love in her heart, our knowledge of each other. I need her girls. I need to experience something I can trust, someone I can wrap my arms around and know. That's her. My girl, my friend. She loves me and she heals me.

There's something about her that tells me I need to thank the good Lord again for the gift of her, for the blessing of this friendship. What a gift it is; how blessed I am.