Got a lovely surprise when one of my oldest and dearest friends Facebooked me to let me know she was going to be in Portland for a few days, and could we do lunch? She's lived in Louisiana for years now, and I haven't seen her since her father's funeral, five years ago.
Missy, Melissa now to those that haven't known her since she was a baby, is a big part of my childhood. After we had lunch I went digging in the basement for pictures of the two of us, and there were plenty. Every birthday party I ever had, there she was.
There in the pictures also, are my other childhood friends/cousins: Wendy, Julie, Emily and not pictured below, Rachel. I don't have a single happy childhood memory that doesn't involve one or more of them.
It caused me to rethink my childhood for a moment, to view it from this objective viewpoint. It was happy. It wasn't ideal, but there was happiness. I was cared for, parties were arranged in my honor, loved ones gathered, over and over again. It doesn't get much better than that, I don't think. Besides, who can't be happy living in a house with such great wall paper and a couch in the kitchen?
(L to R: Missy, me, someone I can't remember, Wendy)
(Missy, me, Julie, Emily)
(Missy's birthday this time, me on the far left, her next to me)
(Me pulling a face, Missy to the right, Emily)
(Wendy, me, Missy, someone's head, Julie)
(Me having a bad hair day, and Missy, cute as flippin' ever)