“Why did you do all this for me?” he asked. “I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.”
“You have been my friend,” replied Charlotte. “That in and of itself is a tremendous thing.”
I’m speechless after Rae’s last post. Haven’t dared to write a word in lieu of savoring her kindness, as rare as it is big-hearted. It makes me wish this: if Rachel lives to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one so I never have to live without her. She has been a halcyon joist that has unquestionably held up the house of my existence. I depend on her. Always. That fact alone should warrant more vacation days for her.
There I go getting greedy. Rachel is here on a little Park City vacation, so I got to see her today. And I’ll get to see her tomorrow too. By day 3, I’ll be petitioning her to stay for good, offering all sorts of incentives. The blog should be motivation enough, right? It’s always the logistics that speedily drag our plan to live near each other down, down, down to the ugly netherworld. But, even if proximity is unkind, I have to remember that I’m so lucky to have her. (Lucky doesn’t even cut it…what can I say, my brain is tired.)
So in honor of friends, the kind that understand your tears and your laughter, the ones who say nice things behind your back, and that help you live your story, here are a few reads that celebrate mutual attachment of the very best kind.