Mountaineers

Back in June, I was lucky enough to get a visit by two of my best friends.  Since high school! Which is becoming an uncomfortably long time ago.  Do I get to say "back in the day", now?  Yikes.  I think I can.  Well I've known A and L since back in, um, in the day.
These two lovelies flew all the way from the west coast, just to meet Little Miss, play with Little One, and brighten everything up for all of us. They came despite the fact that they are both in the midst of some seriously busy times themselves.  They came because they are awesome.

We saw some sights, stayed up entirely too late talking, ate a lot of ice cream, and just hung out.  I don't get to see these two nearly enough.  I practically never have. Because other than senior year of high school- when I moved to their school and we met- we have never lived in the same city.
And yet we have stayed close.  As close as I can be to anyone.
Super emotionally close friendships aren't something I dislike, so much as something I'm not great at.  We all have our trust thresholds, don't we Peanuts.  Mine happens to be a fairly tall one, when it comes down to it.  
But it's important to have friends like these two. Especially these two, no matter how far apart we are. Something I think about more and more as I look ahead at a military life that promises to be on the nomadic side.
Life is quite the climb.  Sometimes I envy people who start out from basecamp together, and toil all the way to the top at each others heels.  Most of us split off onto our own paths somewhere along the way.  But even if we're scaling  our own face of the rock, we are on the same mountain. And its good to have some great people you can shout to from your side.  In case you encounter a particularly treacherous spot, and slip, and need someone to come.  To come and pull you up.  Or in case the view of the sunset from your spot is just too splendid not to share.  Or in case you just need to hear another voice answer you back, and know that Someone is There.
A, L and I are on quite distinct paths, and we are all pretty good climbers. But weekends like this matter.  Sometimes it's just important to all gather on a ledge somewhere.  To rest. Too look back at how far we've all come.  We reminisce about those early days when we set out together; laugh at what amateurs we were and what fun we had then, before it all got so steep.  We share things we've learned along the way; how to hold on when it gets slippery, where to find flowers in the crags. Climbing tips.  We talk about the climb ahead, and what we hope we'll find there. Where we think we're going.
And then we pack up our gear, head to the courses we've each set for ourselves, and keep on. Out of sight of each other, thinking of the next foothold, handhold, pulling up.
Life is a ruggedly beautiful thing.  It's exhilarating; and I expect the view from the top will be spectacular.  But it's tiring, unforgiving. Our hands get calloused, our knees get sore. Sometimes it gets too sharp, too slick, or starts to crumble. Sometimes we narrowly hang on, sometimes it rains too hard to see the way ahead.  It's hard, guys.  It can be hard. 
But when it's fun, when it's painful, as intimidating as it may be, this climb is us living. We'll get there. Especially now that I have two babies in my pack, I know that friends like these matter, and visits like this do. Because they remind us that even if we happen to be climbing our own separate swath of granite on this big Life mountain- we're not doing it alone.
There's something to that.

I get all awkward in person sometimes. It's that threshold thing. But it's easier to get mushy behind the screen of, well, a screen, so I'll go ahead and type it out instead.  You girls are a couple of the best climbing partners there could be.  Love you.