I miss what I never I had

The 'rents moved to the Valley of the Sun, a.k.a. Phoenix, six years ago.  I remember the first time David and I visited.  It was long before the turkeys were in the picture and our days here were spent truly relaxing.  We did nothing except eat, sleep, and drink.  It was a beautiful thing.  Anyhow, as soon as I walked into my parents new house, I was surprised that I felt as at home as I did.

I had never lived there.  I had never even seen it.  They had a ton of new furniture that should have felt foreign.  But, nonetheless, it felt like home. Weird, huh?  Not so weird now that we actually live here.  But still, weird.  We were always supposed to end up here.  I know this and I have absolutely no regrets.  God had a hand in this one for sure.

But that doesn't mean I don't miss those I've left behind.  I wish I could find the words to express how much I miss my A and T (initials used to protect their identities, in case I get a little carried away in my trip down memory lane).  These two chicks are my BFF's.  It feels weird to be an almost 34 year old woman and saying BFF, but whatever.  Did you notice how their initials could be T and A?  Geez, Andrea, get it together.

These two women are a part of me.  A part of me that distance and a couple of time zones cannot ever remove.

A has known me the longest.  She and I go way back to high school.  She was one of the first girls I met when I transferred in during my sophomore year.  We clicked immediately and became inseparable.  Oh, the memories.  Crazy memories.  Fun memories.  Sad memories.  I seriously wish I could share some specifics, but, my girl and my husband would likely not appreciate the public ruminations.  So I shall let my glorious memories live on in my mind.  Although, I think I can share the recent text messaging exchange we had on St. Patrick's Day.

Me:  "Pop Quiz:  What were we doing 10 years ago on this day?"

Now, here is a little caveat...my girl, A, always teases me about my memory.  Apparently, I remember lots of shit that other people don't.  I am always the go-to person that someone will text or email saying, "So and so just friended me on facebook, but I have no idea who this person is.  And you're friends with her too.  So who the eff is this chick?"  To which I generally reply, "Oh, you remember, she sat in front of us in 1st period pre-calculus our junior year.  She was dating Brad for a year or so.  Her locker was on the 2nd floor by the photography lab."  Yes, I'm serious.  I remember the most mundane and useless details.  I am a hub of information.

I digress, back to the text.  She responded promptly and with the correct answer.  I was so proud.  I will not divulge what that answer was, but suffice it to say that I was basking in the glow of Key West memories for the remainder of the day.    

She is a part of my heart.  She's forgiven me for being a crappy friend more times than I can count and her heart is pure and beautiful.  We now talk once a week, sometimes more.  We talk about awesome stuff, about our faith, our children, our lives.  Our conversations are a treasure.

T is my girl from Iowa.  I've known her for almost six years.  It was her first day bartending at our neighborhood watering hole when David and I walked in to share the news that we had just found our first house.  She and I hit it off immediately.  She was a newcomer to Iowa.  She had just moved from Minnesota to be with her boyfriend, now husband.  We exchanged phone numbers and that was that.  She is just one of those chicks you can talk to about anything.  She is so loving and giving.  Her heart is pure and beautiful as well.  She got to experience my adult life firsthand.  She was there for the proposal, the wedding, the pregnancy, the preemie births and the move.

The move.  Ugh.  One of the hardest things I've ever had to do was to tell my pregnant girl (16 weeks at the time) that we sold our house and would be moving across the country in a month and a half.  I wanted to be there for her during her pregnancy as she was for mine.  I wanted to be there to hug and love on her newborn daughter.  I wanted to be there to babysit so she and her hubby could go to dinner.  I was never able to repay her for all the love she gave to me.  Stupid house had to sell too damn fast.

My girl T and I talk several times a week.  I just spent 3 days with her in Vegas.  It was spectacular.  I love her and am grateful to God that she loves me.

Some nights I get a little sappy.  Generally, it happens after a glass or two of wine and these damn zones make it nearly impossible for me to talk to either of the girls by the time the wine kicks in, and then I get extra sappy.  Sometimes I cry and get caught up in the "what might have beens."  I get sad that I didn't get to see any of their children until they were at least 6 months old.  It sucks.

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if we lived closer.  What it would be like to watch our children grow up together.  What it would be like to have barbecues and picnics.  What it would be like to watch the friendship between our spouses grow.  What it would be like to be having a bad day and just pop in for a hug and a shoulder.

And that, my friends, is why I miss what I never had.

Love and peace,

~Andrea