All aboard the Friend Ship. Wooo Wooo!

J and I were talking at lunch this afternoon about some plans that I made tonight to watch the terrible, yet delicious, "Rock of Love Charm School" with my friend Turbo, when J made the sweet, but seemingly offhand comment, "You have nice friends". And it struck me. I do. I do have wonderful, kind, good-hearted, funny, considerate, delightful friends. They're all shapes and colors on four different continents and each one is a character in his or her own way, but they are all "nice friends".

This was not always the case.

The friendships I'm so fortunate to have are products of hard work and lots of deep belly laughs. They've seen me through the darkest, scariest times of my life, and I try my best to be there, at least in spirit and in words when they need a love crutch to lean on. In some cases, love interests have turned into deep platonic friendships that would never have blossomed if they were just part of a long line of failed dating attempts. But others who could either not keep their drama in check, or who intentionally worked at being really awful, if entertaining, people have gone by the cold, muddy wayside with haste.

I don't find it upsetting that a lot of my friends live far away from the possibility of a kitchen table tea date. Each time I talk to them on the phone, or hear from them in e-mail, it's just like we had lunch that afternoon and are catching up on our evening plans. No gaps. No sadness. Just connection and warmth.

The only time I feel funky twinges is when I see pictures of their kids. For instance, it's uncool that I don't get to give my Micah (oh there's a story there) a hug every day and read him a bedtime story, or have him read me a story with all of his reading prowess these days, but I get regular updates from his mom and know that he still loves his Aunt Sheila as much as I love his wee self. When I moved to Oregon, his goodbye was my hardest to give. He didn't make it any easier when he said "Aunt Sheila when you come back and see a big boy behind my mom, that boy will be me, okay?" Ouch. All I could muster was "Okay, Monkey. I'll look for him."

And he was right. Last May when I visited friends and family, there was a giant kid where my little Monkey used to be. But we hadn't missed a beat. He was still my Micah friend.

This spring it's looking promising that I'll be able to speak to one of my dearest friend's college organization, and I couldn't be more excited. She has two gorgeous girls, the youngest of whom I've yet to smother with Auntie lovins, and while we haven't seen each other in far too many years, I know it will be like we're still sharing a room and all our secrets at college all over again.

I have nice friends. I hope they know they have me, too.