For only the second time, in my whole life, I was sad to see my oldest and dearest friend leave. The first time was when we were 14. I stood on the sidewalk in front of her old house while her mother drove her and her sister up over the hill and out of town to a different life somewhere else. I can still see her long, skinny arm waving out the window.
Yesterday, we went out for lunch. We talked and we laughed, exploded in LOUD laughter, at the same time. Hands flying everywhere, through all the stories and points of view. We dissected current events and re-examined shared history. I talked while I was chewing– bad, very bad, manners. We agreed that since we’re making the rules we can bend them a little, to allow for our own shortcomings, but for all others there will be STRICT ADHERENCE. We had lemon cake with blackberry, buttercream, frosting for dessert.
We hugged and she got in her car and drove down Hippy Hill, laughing and yelling out the window, “Love you!” I laughed and yelled back. Watching her leave, my heart felt like that cake tasted, sweet with a hint of tart.