Rowdy Country Girls..

Hey Hannah! Remember me? I don't even have to question that with you..You cling onto every little tidbit of memory that ever existed. You were the teenage girl with the camera in your purse at all times, ready to capture a moment, and embarrassment, and achievement. Oh, how I'd love to take trip down your memory lane. Maybe one day I'll leave the boys to fend for themselves and you'll let me spend the whole day peering into the memory part of your brain.

As previously mentioned five year old has started Kindergarten, at a different school than last year. He may or may not be having a tough time making friends. All this internal drama has got me thinking about that first day of fifth grade. I was new, from a rival school, and gawky as hell. Who the hell is that damn TALL in fifth grade!? Oh well, I was tall, GiGi had boobs already and you were country as the day is long. You were so warm and friendly and made a point to be my friend. Knowing you inside and out like I do now, I'm well aware that your competitive nature was in fact claiming me before anyone else could, but I don't care. I love you. You're ornery as hell, but I love you.

We were both teachers' kids, but other than that our upbringing was so different. You were raised in the BOONE DOCKS..BFE..Middle of Nowhere. I can't believe your parents still live out there. I was country, but not that kind of country. Those first few years we traveled everywhere on four wheelers..ATV's for my more refined readers. We sped through the night, raced down county roads, chased cows in that old man's pasture. When I think about it now, I ache to be back there. One night in particular, me and you bundled from head to toe, idling on the edge of that pasture. Full moon shining down powdery warmth on everything. I taught you to smoke on that four wheeler and you taught me to hunt..

Being an only child I loved the fact that your house was always loud and thriving. I loved sitting around that big wooden table and laughing with your siblings and all of their friends. There was always some kind of drama, and lets face it, that was our bread and butter. You loved my house too, it was quiet and we were the center of attention without having to work quite so hard. And you loved being in town (keep in mind internet, this "town" consisted of about 1000 people) I remember that night before we left for Disney world, you and I walked to the hill across from my house and sat out there till after dark discussing the tragedy of your yet to come period. I tried and tried to assure you that it was something that would come..and furthermore, it was not something to long for. But, in true 'you' fashion, you felt left out..almost like a failure. Sixth grade and no period yet, Oh the horror! Yeah, Disney World. Me with the freakishly long skinny legs and you with your fanny pack and rolly polly belly hanging over your bikini. We were a pair.

We've been through so much together. We're not really friends anymore so much as sisters. In inextricably bound by pages and pages of material,..proof, ..pictures, comfort, love, tragedy, laughter. We've gone months without speaking, not on purpose, just busy with our own little lives. But, when something valid..something monumental happens, it hasn't really happened yet until we talk. We must talk. We must be there.

In a lonely hospital room a new mother held her second baby. His father snored on the foldout a few feet away. She cried because her legs were still numb from the botched epidural..She felt embarrassed and all alone and she needed to put the baby down and get some sleep. But she couldn't walk. Her attempt to make it to the bathroom failed miserably, and she wasn't going to try with the baby. She cursed the car wreck that pulled her night nurse to the ER. She cursed the handful of pills her husband had taken, and she cursed the mother in law that slipped them to him in the hall. She cursed the broken promise he'd made. Guilt gnawed at her skin until it was unbearable. Guilty for being so angry while holding such a precious blessing. Such a precious, healthy, beautiful blessing. Exhausted from the fight of her life, she felt hopeless and alone. Then you walked in. You walked in and the sun came out. You walked in and oooh'd and ahh'd and held the precious blessing and expressed your envy. You walked in and listened and comforted. You walked in and held my hand, led me away from that horribly heavy, itchy fog.

You're always my sister. I love you dearly. An only child should be so lucky. Anyone, should be so lucky.