Friends

My Girls

I am grateful that I have a lot of friends. Not just Facebook friends, but real flesh and blood friends. I have new friends, old friends, young friends, women friends, guy friends, support group friends, Hollywood friends, neighborhood friends, family friends, and childhood friends. I've heard it's important to keep making friends all throughout life. Spending time with my wheel-chair bound, 88 year old friend helps me see how true this is.

I want to talk about my childhood friends, Marsha, Deborah, Carol and Bootsie. I've known these wonderful women since we were in elementary school. Marsha and I usually sat near each other in all of our classes because in those days both our last names began with "H". We all walked to school together and hung out on our neighborhood street corners together until well after the street lights came on. Reluctant to go to our respective dysfunctional homes. I've known them so long I can't actually remember where or when we met.

We smoked cigarettes together. Went to parties together, got into trouble together. We laughed and talked and gossiped and learned about life together. And oh Lord, did we talk about boys and sex together. Deborah had the most experience here. I remember she told us of her escapades as we walked through Fair Grounds park to high school. Marsha, Carol and I hung on her every word, gleaning longed for information. Marsha and I would talk on the phone for hours in the evenings even though we had spent most of the day together at school. I remember we watched the move "The Birds" together on the phone! Teenagers.

I am the only one who has no sisters. I was glad about it at the time as I watched Deborah and her sisters fight over clothes and such. Carol and her sister never got along. But Marsha's sister, Bootsie, was already grown and I looked up to her. We got glimpses into adult life when we spent time at her place.  I couldn't believe how having babies effected life! I think of these women as my sisters now and I feel very fortunate to have them in my life.

Of course we all grew up and went off to college and real life. Deborah got married when we were still in high school. She and her husband had a tiny apartment that we visited occasionally and we were in awe of what real married life would look like for us in our future. Carol married and moved to the suburbs. Marsha went off to New York after college to seek her fortune as an actress. I moved to Los Angeles after college.

We wouldn't see each other for many many years. But when we talked it was as if no time had passed at all. We would catch up on what the men in our lives where up to. Sometimes we were in between husbands and live-ins. I had a kid, Deborah had a kid. There were deaths and drama in our various families. So much to talk about when we got the chance.

When I moved back to St. Louis in the 90s, we were able to see each other more frequently. Marsha was living there again, too. Bootsie turned us on to the Martini Club at the Ritz Carlton on Fridays. Woohooo, happy hour, did I look forward to those happy hours. I would watch the clock at work all day waiting to have that first soothing sip of a martini.

It was just us girls again. Talking about everything under the sun. Exchanging gifts and giggling like school girls. Every now and then we would invite others to join us. We were quite particular about who we invited. Especially men. If they didn't appreciate the honor of the invitation, they were never invited again. I tried to recreate this phenomenon in Los Angeles. Turns out it could not be recreated.

My friends are all living in St. Louis now, so when I was going through chemo for breast cancer, Marsha and Bootsie flew out to lay eyeballs on me in order to be sure I was going to be OK. I love them so much for that.

When my mother was critically ill in the hospital Deborah, a nurse, would visit her and read her charts and tell me what going on. Deborah went with me to visit one of my great aunts who was dying and brightened her day. That's just how she is. She spreads love everywhere she goes. I'll never forget that she opened her home to me when I was living in St. Louis and had to escape an abusive boyfriend.

My mother died a little over a year ago, and once again my girls were there for me. Bootsie and Marsha picked me up from the airport. I stayed in the lovely lavender guest room of Marsha's house. I was comforted and reassured by having them surround me with love. We hung out together and drank wine and laughed and I nearly forgot the sad reason I was in town.

Most memorable for me was when the family walked into the chapel for the funeral and the first people I saw were my girls, standing strong in a row, lined up by height (I think that was probably unintentional). I was moved beyond words. My heart swelled with love for my big hearted sisters.

These are my sister friends. I know without a doubt that they will always be in my life and in my heart.