Recently I took a reprieve from myself and travelled to
Oak Island, NC, with nine girlfriends who are as different as night and day and yet as similarly connected as darkness is to light.
Terrified of even attending, I didn’t sleep the night before.
My fears were mildly put at ease at the thought of driving with a friend who is as old and dear as one can imagine. I remember the day I met her: Sitting outside of the dormitory at freshman orientation at
Winthrop University. “That girl has to be the biggest bitch I have ever seen,” was my initial thought. Who would have thought that, months later, while sneaking cigarettes out of the dormitory window that she would reveal a piece of herself so intimate that it changed forever how I would see her and her perspective on the world around her. “People always think I’m such a bitch,” she said, “But I’m actually really shy.” Who would have thought it? We were friends instantly and the trait I value most in her is that she knows where she stands but doesn’t expect you to agree, disagree or adapt to her standings in the least. She has strong convictions, whether it be in disciplining her child, whether or not she chooses to drink one (or 12) glasses of wine, or how much liquor her husband consumes.
She’ll share those convictions with you but will not, ever, not even once, expect or demand that you agree with her or understand her opinions. I am the winner in this relationship, though. Being her friend allows you to freely be yourself without question or judgment in any way, shape or form. She couldn’t care less if you don’t want to do something and isn’t offended if you want to go to bed early or stay out late. It’s not that she doesn’t care about
you; just the opposite actually. She cares enough about you to let you be yourself completely and truly.
Being alone in the car with her was like coming home. Talk or be silent. Sing or smoke. Cry or laugh. With her, it’s always “all good” and her sense of humor is unparalleled in my humble opinion as evidenced by her running commentary of the back-road inhabitants of rural North Carolina coastal communities.
Upon arriving at
Oak Island late in the afternoon, I was warmly greeted by a stunning sunset and our host, a friend who brings so much warmth in her embrace that you instantly feel at ease and, most importantly, welcomed and appreciated, when standing in her presence. She is light at heart, which is surprising considering she was one of the first to get married and, subsequently, divorced. She is, without question, the epitome of overcoming obstacles by keeping a positive attitude.
She is funny and silly, throwing caution to the wind and being the first to jump at the chance to dance like no one’s watching, yet also incredibly genuine from the top of her curly haired head, to the bottom of her always painted toes. If you are in her presence long enough, you will find that she is incredibly real – facing her own problems and obstacles, just like every other ordinary, conflicted soul that surrounds her. It is the manner in which she handles those obstacles that is so stunning to admire. As we were waiting for the other girls to arrive, the sun began to set on the horizon of the ocean.
It warmed the front porch we were sitting on, and I remember looking over at her, basked in complete and utter golden lightness which is exactly how I see her rain or shine.
As the sun continued to set, a rare sight bounded in with her husband, her dog and her luggage. A transplant southerner with a military dad and a Vietnamese mom, she had travelled from DC for the exclusive purpose of spending time with those that she rarely gets to see. I won’t pretend to know her the way that I know the other girls, though whenever I leave her presence, I always wish that I had had more time with her, been able to hear more of her thoughts, listen to her perspectives and insight and simply be in her presence. She is professional, polished, a stunning woman with porcelain skin and almond shaped eyes that always appear smart behind her glasses. She exudes a wisdom beyond her years and when you are fortunate enough to be amongst her, you will gain invaluable perspective on your own life.
Darkness finally fell, the sky changing from a luminescent purple to a rich navy and as the stars began to peek their eyes through the sky, two more sparkles appeared in the drive, shimmering amongst their baggage which could supply an army of teenage girls with all the glitter and glam their little hearts could imagine. They were there to shine – and shine they did to me. The first friend recently held my hand on a very dark night, the second has shown me more than she knows. Sparkle One and Sparkle Two are quite the pair, being long-time best friends in the greatest sense of the word. It’s strange to think that you ‘know’ someone, only to discover that they are so much more than you ever imagined.
Sparkle One I have known since I was in high school. She was a year older than I was and I never ran particularly close with her circle of friends. Later, in college, she became pregnant and delivered her life, a son, a few months premature. She has become the example of the mother that I hope to be to her son and has fought tooth and nail for everything she has today. She is stronger than she knows or will admit to herself, and is typically the first amongst us to down the shot, start the dance or commence the latest gossip. She needs none of those attributes, though, as her best qualities are the ones reserved for moments that she rarely recognizes. Moments when she takes your hand and tells you you’re beautiful; Moments when she looks at you across the room beneath her long eyelashes and shimmer eye shadow as if to say, “I’ve got your back.”
Sparkle Two and I, as I’ve come to discover, are actually more similar than either of us may want to admit. Creative to the bone and caring to every living soul on earth, she was attending this weekend without her young daughter for the first time since her birth. I was incredibly proud of her; Proud beyond words that she committed time to herself, to her friends, and to me; Time to put the hat of motherhood aside for a short moment in order to giddily laugh at dirty jokes and distasteful internet videos. Sparkle Two is a woman that I admire in many ways – her thoughtfulness is never overlooked, nor is her ability to fiercely defend what she believes in right. I admire that greatly in her though she probably doesn’t know it.
As night finally set in, the moments seemed to be passing all too fast. As precious seconds ticked by, the feeling that our time on that
Island was fleeting consumed me.
Time stood still for me though when friend five arrived from
Charleston. Ever present in my thoughts nearly every day, she is the pinnacle of many of my own aspirations. A successful career woman, yet free as a bird to release a child-like enthusiasm at a whim, she is a woman of great substance to me. Over the course of the weekend I would soon discover even more substance that lies within her as she grapples with the decision and ability to conceive. She carries each and every event of her life with her. Each moment defining another piece of her so that she seems constantly evolving to me, something I find utterly fascinating about her. Her father’s death, her relationship with her sister, her marriage, her job – these things do not define her, and yet you can see each one of them within her, punctuated in the very best of lights with a calmness that makes me feel at peace when I am in her presence.
Before dinner, the first of two of my soul-mates arrived. Soul-Mate #1 and I need no words. There’s times where she probably hates me, and I often fear that, in her eyes, I don’t quite measure up most of the time. What astounds me, though, is that despite whatever disappointment I may cause her, she’s there. She’s always there – standing silently in the background either in my presence, or in my heart. She’s honest to a fault and quick to express her displeasure with any number of things, but beneath her hard exterior lies perhaps the most kind person I have ever met. She hurts just like the rest of us, a fact that she neither likes to admit or express. She recently lost her best friend and I don’t think she knows how badly my heart breaks to see her in pain. I often times wish that there were moments when I could just hold her – or vice versa. I think she knows that though. That’s the thing with her: she always knows.
Just as we came back in from dinner, the last and final addition to our group finally made her appearance. Soul Mate #2 arrived fresh from a husband, a toddler, an infant and desperately needing a date with her breast pump. Perpetually pregnant and strong-willed to the inth degree, she was happy to be free of the endless responsibilities that she endures as a military wife and mother to two rambunctious boys. She is the first to remind you that you are worth something and the last person on the planet to judge your feelings or dismiss them as being without merit. She listens. She answers the phone. She has been my saving grace in some very dark moments and she bounded up the stairs, breast pump in hand, ready to covet a bottle of wine, scream for the Steelers and offer her shoulder. She carries a silent strength within that she is all too aware of, yet stubborn enough to discard as “nothing”. Her needs are nearly always met last and yet she is the first in line to offer a hand up, a hand out or just an open hand to hold. I grip onto it tightly every day.
Our short reprieve from life in general brought out the best in all of us. Each woman shines brilliantly to me. I see each of them in my mind on the porch that Saturday morning – warming their legs by the bright sun, bundled in sweaters, smiling, beautiful, brilliant.
