Today I had the pleasure of watching one my closest girlfriends try on her wedding gown. She is getting married late this coming August, and I have the honour of being her, well, Matron of Honour. I was taken aback when she asked, as she has two sisters, and I always figured that sisters just asked sisters to be maids of honours. I am an only child, not by my mom’s choice, but more by nature’s. She always raised me as though I had five siblings, punishing me with chores, lack of spoiling, and making me accountable for any attitude I tried to cop. Thankfully my dad took the opposite approach, no no no … just kidding. (sort of) Needless to say though, I still grew up as an only child, and one that always wanted a sibling, especially a sister.
I was lucky though. My mom is exceptionally close to her sisters, and so I adopted my close cousins as my half siblings. I was teased, decorated, and influenced by these older cousins whom I adored more than any other person. I would cry when they would leave. I even begged my mom to let me cut my hair just like my cousin’s. My mom obliged. I regretted it – even at age five.
My cousin and I are still close, but other special women have entered and stayed strongly in my life. Sister-friends scattered all over the world. The type of friendships have lasted over the years through postcards, hand written letters, cassette tapes, packages, phone calls, extended visits, short visits, emails and now of course, facebook. They’re the type of friendships where you make a phone call and it feels as though you just spoke a day ago. They’re the friends that would drop a day of work to rescue you from a breakup. Friends that don’t mind you climbing into their dormitory bed to whisper about a boy you just kissed. Friends that will walk ten miles and eat three ice cream cones while you babble on about finding yourself for the umpteenth time. Friends that will cross borders with you. Friends that would pull together scraps from your wedding day and hand quilt them into a giant blanket. Friends that will rub your hands, feet, back, neck and support you continuously through early labour with your first child. Friends that will watch your son be born and stink at taking the photos because they’re eyes were just as watery as yours. Friends that you will stay up chatting with on your porch (even though you have a 9 hour day ahead). Friends that would support your decision to move to a foreign country to be with the man you love. Friends that will ignore the dust bunny in the corner. Friends that let you be you, and love you for all that you’re great for, and all that you want to improve on.
I am grateful to be this loved. Thank you dear friends.