I’m back from my perfect weekend in Sedona, where six of us celebrated my friend Anna’s 45th birthday. (It’s odd to have unlinkable friends, but there you have it. Some of my friends don’t have blogs.)
It was amazing to be in a gorgeous setting with great, beautiful friends. Three of us went to college together, and the two of them met Anna on a trip to Russia, and since Anna apparently had a life before she met us, two of her friends from her L.A. high school days).
It was perfect. We had spa treatments and prickly pear margaritas and tried to hire a male stripper and went on hikes and couldn’t stop looking all around us, feeling like we were on a movie set, because seriously, the mountains in Sedona are photoshopped.
We got up early and had breakfast in our suite, talking about our children, and crying a bit because being a mother is heartbreaking sometimes, and you’re not supposed to say so in the day-to-day but when you’re with the friends that know you best, you just let go. And you talk without worry that someone will pull the judgmental “hard? I don’t know, I love being a mother” card.
We laughed, too.
Oh my, how we laughed. I laugh a lot in my every day life, but on Friday night, when we were sitting around and looking at photographs from college and just talking, I laughed in a way that I thought would require medical assistance and a co-payment.
And then it was over.
I came home.
I came home to my family that made this trip possible and who I love and to an apartment that in my short absence looked like it hosted the Occupy Wall Street protest over the weekend. (To be fair, it wasn’t a Martha Stewart set before I left, either.)
And although I’m happy to be home, and I love my family and I wouldn’t trade them for all the vistas in the world, my God, in the privacy of this blog, can I tell you that I miss my girlfriends and that it hurts to live my life far away from them and to rely on the once-a-year-if-we’re-lucky meetings. And we’ve been lucky, because last year it was a wedding. It’s been merry so far, but I know what’s ahead.
But I’m trying to focus on how lucky I am.
How lucky I am to have such friends and to have had such a weekend.
Even without the stripper.
One year ago ...
- Cleanse - 2012