Monday, January 14, 2013

My Best Friend(s).

How many people have you called your "best" friend during your life? If you are lucky, you have had many. But if you are REALLY lucky, when you think of the word best friend only a few come to mind. I was born blessed. I instantly had an older sister who, at the time, was NOT but my best friend, but grew into be over the years. I was then blessed with two more little sisters that turned into being my 2nd and 3rd best friends.

Sisters are a funny thing. Your relationship starts off being a “have-to” kind of dynamic, but as you get older it turns into a want-to-(mostofthetime) (ha ha) kind of relationship. I have three of them and I can honestly say that each of them are my best friends. It’s kind of like having all the great qualities of one true best friend spread out over three bodies.

One of them has the ability to put me in my place, call my bluff, kick my ass in a drinking game, keep me young, remind me that I am a good mom/sister/friend, and give me the best damn pedicure I have ever had.

Another is my shoulder to cry on, the first call I make when I am losing my shit over something ridiculous, and the one that believes I CAN do anything that I put my mind to. She will also call my bluff and kick my ass in a drinking game.

And the third, she’s the one that “gets” me. Every last little weird thing about me, she gets. She has stood beside me during all of the greatest moments in my life and protects me from myself A LOT. She can’t beat me in a drinking game, but she does call my bluff frequently.

And the BEST part is that on any given day, all the roles can switch around and we are all something different to each sister. It’s a perfect rotating balance of love and understanding.

Ever since my oldest sister moved out of our childhood home to begin her journey into her wide open spaces, my mother has always swooned and awed about moments when “all four girls are under the same roof together”. It only happens about twice a year max, and when it does, LOOK OUT!  It’s an intense experience for everyone involved.

Most of the time there is something huge and dramatic happening to bring us all together under the same roof. Like a wedding, Christmas or a birth. When this happens, we usually have to share each other with all the other family members so it doesn’t end up with much quality time spent together as a “stable chair.” “Stable chair” is what we call it when all four are together because of a lonely Christmas one year, when one was missing and we felt like a stool. We only had three of the four “legs” and not as stable as our chair. Hence…stable chair. ANYWAYS… we tend to speak in a language all our own, and there is no way I can get into that right now. We would be here all day.

SO yea, recently (last summer) we decided to get together to go to a Country Music Festival here in PEI. CAVENDISH BEACH MUSIC FESTIVAL!!!!!! I can barely type it without squealing like the thirteen year old girl that I feel like on the inside!

It started out with just two of us going, with husbands and a couple other sets of friends. Then one couple backed out, then one husband, then a sister joined, then another husband back out, then we recruited/begged/bribed/paid for the third sister to come!!! So it ended up being just us sisters going. It wasn’t planned to happen this way, but we weren’t complaining about it either.

It was the absolute best bonding/drinking/crazy-ass/dramatic/ridiculous/painful/amazing/hilarious weekend of our lives!!! Hands down the monumental moment in all of our lives as our already close sister bonds went from tight-knit to be fused, like a welded piece of metal. We laughed, we cried, we screamed, we cheered, we drank, a lot.

When the weekend was over and the hangover kicked in and we went back to our own realities again, we all cried, and had major separation anxiety over the break-up for weeks. No, months. We are still reeling. As soon as one of us mentions the word Cavendish, we are right back there loving life with each other in our minds and we can’t wait for that weekend to come again this summer. We are living for it right now.

When I was pregnant with my first child, my older sister was there when I went into labour. During the process of getting some pain relief from the anesthesiologist, I had to be perfectly still. One move and I could be paralyzed is what I had read about in my prenatal prep guide. So my sister, with her amazing ability to force me into focusing, looked and me and said: “Katie, go to your happy place!” At the time, at age 22, my happy place was a place from my childhood. I found the giant rock at my Dad’s camp, and imagined myself sitting on top of it. It got me through the pain and fear. Along with my sister’s hips. She had my fingernail marks imprinted in her from me squeezing her as she stood in front of me to be my rock.

I have used my happy rock in the woods in many moments of ridiculousness when I am finding it hard to bring myself back from hysteria. But after that weekend with my sisters, I NOW go to the beer tent at Cavendish Beach Music Festival! I look around in my mind and see the beautiful vibrant faces of my sisters, and my happy place becomes being with them.

Having one sister would have been amazing. BUT having three is an honor! I am so lucky to have these permanent best friends in my life. There is never a fear of being judged and the worst thing we can do to each other is tell Mom something that she wasn't ready to tell her. (It’s inevitable because she is like the 5th sister, but only when we are feeling generous or we think she can handle it) HA HA. Love you Mom. AND, thank YOU, and Dad, for giving me these three beautiful best friends for my life. You will NEVER know how much it means to me.

She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child. ~Barbara Alpert




P.S. Prepare yourself for many more "Tales of he Sisterhood" in the coming months!

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