The Gift of Friendship

I had dinner on Friday night with two amazing women I've known for a long time.  I met my friend Karen when I was 17 or maybe a little younger (I just turned 42, so we've know each other a long time).  We worked together in a "fine dining" restaurant at The Governor House Hotel and Conference Center. I was a busser and she was a server.  She was in her early 20's and I was pretty sure she was one of the coolest "adults" I'd ever met.  Over the years we've managed to stay in touch and witness the journey of each others lives.  We traveled through the Southwest in a VW Westfalia camper van I bought with student loan money in my junior year at The Evergreen State College in 1997.  This was her first trip away from her daughter, who was three years old at the time.  I sang karaoke at her graduation party when she received her Master's degree, not sure when it was, maybe 2000.  She stepped in and  helped cater my dad's memorial in 2005.  We talked about the challenges of raising a fiercely independent 15 year old, and we often laughed about the insanity of our lives and choices we made or didn't make.  One thing we've always had in our relationship is honesty and laughter, lots of laughter.  If I think about what has made our friendship work all of these years, it would have two be those two things.  Karen is one of the the most authentic people I have ever know.  Spider was the other dinner guest, I've know her about 10 years or so, and she is another smart, creative, soulful, and authentic person.  Dinner with these two reminded me how important and vital honesty and laughter are to my existence.  If I had nothing but these two things at the end of my life, I would be content.  Oh, and by the way, Karen remains, without a doubt, one of the coolest adults I know.

The inspiration for this post was the book Karen gave me for my graduation:

From this book comes one of my favorite quotes:

"How does one become a butterfly?"  She asks pensively.

"You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar."