Some friends come and go in your life.   You make friends at the playground when you’re a toddler.  The relationship lasts until your mother decides it is time to leave.  You think someone is your best friend in kindergarten because they sit at your table.  In third grade you asked someone to be your best friend.   The friendship is legit if you walk around with “St   End” around your neck.   

In grades six through eight you make additional friends, but struggle fit in.   Many of those people will be in your circle throughout high school.   Some will fade from the picture when you leave for college.  I don’t think you truly value friendship until you become an adult.  

It is no secret that I struggled with turning 40.   I focused on the negative things: flabby stomach, less than perky breasts and a forehead that looks like a four lane highway.  It turns out none of that matters when you have a good plastic surgeon or good friends.   I have really good friends.  They surprised me this weekend with a trip to New York City to celebrate my birthday.   We tossed around the idea, but I was told the trip wasn’t happening.  They had me fooled.  The doorbell rang at 7 a.m on Saturday.   I answered the door, bra-less and wearing a scrunchie in my hair.  (You can take the girl out of the 90s, but cannot take the 90s out of the girl.)   They were smiling ear to ear as they announced their plan to kidnap me for the weekend.   Once I woke up and understood what they did I got teary eyed.  Who am I kidding? I cried.  They planned this extrordinary trip and coordinated child care. They did it for me.   These women have been by my side through love and loss.  We cheer for one another when times are good and lift each other up when they are bad; and there have been some really awful times in our lives.  They are caring, honest and loyal.   

We had an amazing trip.  There wasn’t a moment of silence in the five hour car ride.   

We reminisced and shared new stories. Truth be told, there were some things I wish I hadn’t learned. We laughed and laughed until our bellies hurt.  

They thought of everything.  

We went to dinner at a restaurant that doesn’t have crayons or balloons.  

We drank beverages that didn’t require a lid. 

 We watched an amazing Broadway show that didn’t include a cartoon character.  



We ran in Central Park on a beautiful spring morning.   

It was perfect.   

It turns out 40 is fabulous because  I have something at 40 that I didn’t have at 20 – true friendship.   I wouldn’t trade it for all the cellulite cream in the world.   


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