I am having a hard time saying good-bye to people. I mostly just want to disappear and not have to say good-bye. It's different for some people though--including my writing group. I felt happy anticipation about going to Maryanne's house, knowing I was going somewhere safe and where I was loved, among people that wouldn't be swayed if there was some ugly crying involved.
The food was glorious and the company was even better. We talked about our writing group and what our now somewhat virtual meetings will look like. (I was instructed that I would have to take a nap on the days we meet--me joining through Skype. Our meetings with these night owls are already late for my wimpy self plus I will be in a different time zone.)
Then we talked about Everything Under the Sun which is sort of our custom. We're a somewhat diverse group but these women get me. When I am with them, I feel like me. I don't feel like I need to do anything to fit in or measure up or impress. I'm just me and that is good enough.
When we said good-bye, there were tears (my fault, I started it) because I wanted to try to tell them, just a little bit, of what they mean to me. I couldn't because I can't express it. (I especially can't express it when I'm crying.)
I felt incredibly lucky when I was driving home. I don't know what I did to deserve all the marvelous friends that I have. They can't possibly know how much they matter to me.
We took fuzzy looking selfies with our phones. Here's one version:
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| I think that's the shadow of my arm across everyone's faces... |
In a totally expected turn of events, it's not a super flattering picture of me. It doesn't matter though. I love these women. Continuing to be in touch with them in our writing group may be one of my favorite reasons to love the internet.
1 comment:
It's a cute picture of you. It brings tears to my eyes to think of you leaving dear friends.
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