My friend K visited this past weekend from Minneapolis. We used to live in the same apartment building, taught yoga at the same studio, and become close friends fast. She was the first person in Des Moines who knew I was pregnant when it happened (I told her in the parking lot after a hot class; her response was "are you SERIOUS, whoa, how are you" in true fashion). I stood up in her lovely summer wedding. Last time I saw her was a year ago, when we traveled to MN with a six-month-babe who couldn't roll over and still needed to be breastfed every hour.
Life is different now, but so much is still the same. We're both going through the journey to home ownership. We've both been rocked by our privilege in light of the election results, and consequently our conversations take shape over politics and social action a little more than they used to. But a single chat can arc all the way from the virtues of sriracha mayo on egg sandwiches to the best way to grill zucchini to how to join a new church to Phoebe Robinson's wit.
We always forget to take photos when together, though, probably because the present moment is more enjoyable than reaching for a smartphone. But on this visit we said, let's take a cute posed photo! Let's not forget! So we tried like five times, and then it got weird and awkward, and eventually it turned out the mid-mule drank face with messy hair and cozy clothes felt more real than anything else.
Isn't that how true friendship goes, though?