A Song for Saturday - Into the Mystic - Van Morrison

Today is my dear old friend's birthday.  We have known each other for over thirty years and to pick just one song for her was very difficult as there are many songs that evoke countless, wonderful memories from over the years.

This particular tune, though, reminds me of one very colourful night - a night of purple houses, yellow I-Rocs and brass trumpets.  Good times!

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the
mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic

And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it
I don't have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows you know I will be coming
home
And when that fog horn whistle blows I got to hear it

I don't have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will float into the mystic
Come on girl...

Girl in the Tree

I wrote this letter in response to a prompt from my IRL writing group.  We were to write a letter of advice to our younger selves. 

Recently, the younger brother of my very good friend posted this photo on Facebook.  I had never seen this photo before.  I believe we were about nine or ten years old.  Something about the photo caught my attention and I decided to direct my letter to her, the Girl in the Tree.  She's the one at the top of the tree.

Dear Girl in the Tree,

This is supposed to be one of those letters where I, your older and much wiser self, am supposed to give you all sorts of advice but I look at you and the confidence that you portray and wonder what you might be able to tell me.   

I don’t remember this picture being taken and when I first saw it I was surprised to see that you were at the top of the tree above everyone else.  This is not how I remember being but Danita (yes, we are still friends) remembers it differently.  When I mentioned my surprise to her, she just laughed and said that I was always brave back then, always the first to try new things.  Really?   I have to stretch my memory in order to remember this feeling and I am not sure when things changed.  You already had so many things to be afraid of, yet you look so happy. 

I guess if I had any advice to give you at all, it would be this:  Don’t lose that fearlessness because in the process you will lose yourself and let me tell you, you will spend a whole lot of time in the future looking for you. 

I know you have this inherent need to please others but don’t put everyone else's needs above yours because eventually you just forget your own and, again, you will spend a lot of time trying to figure this out. 

I guess what I am really trying to say is hold onto that Girl in the Tree as tightly as you can.  Don’t let her go. 

Love, Me (The girl trying to find the Girl in the Tree) 

I am sending this to The Red Dress Club for their weekend linkup. 

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June 26, 2011 Update 

I am linking this post to Flicker of Inspiration Prompt #5: A Letter to You at The Lightning and the Lightning Bug. The letter is addressed to the "Girl in the Tree" who is not sixteen, but nine or ten.  I thought that it was relevant anyway.  Please forgive me if I am wrong.

"Write a letter to yourself at age sixteen. What might you tell your sixteen year-old self? Would you warn yourself not to make a certain mistake? Would you ask yourself to treasure being young? Would you tell yourself how much you've changed? You can write the letter from your present self, or from someone else entirely. Feel free to take this in an unexpected direction. Good luck!"

Sharing the Love

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  Maya Angelou

I am truly blessed to be one of a group of four friends who have known each other for a very long time. One of the four is my sister who is just over a year younger than me, close enough in age so that she thought my friends were automatically hers and just that much younger than me that I found her to be extremely annoying.  Being the slightly older, much more mature sister, I was forever telling her to “go and find your own friends!”  Being the determined, stubborn, younger sister, she finally weaseled her way in to my circle of friends for good and I am glad that she did.  Just don’t tell her I said that.

Another of the group, I have known since Grade Three when I moved to BC from Newfoundland with my gummy smile and my funny accent that she was so quick to point out.  She thought it was quite humorous when I would say things such as, “I loves that” or “I’ll have a root bear”.  My accent quickly faded but our friendship did not.  We soon became fixtures in each others lives and homes.  If I wasn’t at her house, then she was at mine and we had sleepovers all the time, even on school nights.   Our friendship started out with her laughing at me and continues with her laughing at me.  I don’t know if she just, automatically, laughs at everything that I say or if I am just really funny when I am around her.  I like to think it’s the latter.

The last to join our group was actually my sister’s friend first.  They were in Grade Nine when they met and I think the conversation went something like this: 

“Hey, you’re new here, aren’t you?”  

“Yeah, don’t you guys party around here?”

“Sure.  Why don’t you come to my house later?  It’s the one with the red picnic table in the front. Don’t mind the red picnic table.  Oh, yeah and by the way, my sister has an older boyfriend.  Cool, huh?”

At the house with the red picnic table, not only did she find the party that she was looking for but also the beginnings of a lifelong friendship.

It has been about thirty years since the days of the red picnic table and since then we have celebrated eight weddings, rejoiced at the births of nine children and two grandchildren, endured six marital break-ups and grieved the deaths of one father, two brothers and several friends.  

Between us, we have cried many tears, tears of sadness and tears of joy.  We have also consumed countless bottles of red wine and sung numerous renditions of Janice Joplin’s, Me and Bobby Magee including one that ended with a broken coffee table.  Don’t ask.

This past weekend I met up with the girls and, as always, we had a great time.  After lunch, we wandered around the quaint shops at the funky, touristy Fort Langley.  

As we tried on hats, browsed candy shops and sampled Lavender Tea, we laughed and we sang and then we laughed some more.  And then, it happened again.  It is a reoccurring phenomena.  We drew the smiles and comments from the people around us who were irresistibly drawn to the joy and laughter.  Strangers joked and laughed with us in attempt to capture the feeling for themselves and we, obligingly, shared because the happiness was only magnified as we did so.

It only seems right to share this amazing gift that we have been given and if our laughter can brighten the life of a stranger for even just a few seconds, we are more than happy to share the love.

PROJECT SMILE!

This post is inspired by a prompt at Mama Kat's.

July 16th - Update 

I am linking this to The Lightning and the Lightning Bug's Dare to Share.  This week's theme is Friendship.