What I know is… My birthday was in May and so was hers.
We became BFFs.
We became BFFs.
Serious BFFs.
We were in the same class in Mrs. Sterling’s first grade, and Mrs. Scroggins’ second grade, who, incidentally, were sisters.
We were in the same class in Mrs. Sterling’s first grade, and Mrs. Scroggins’ second grade, who, incidentally, were sisters.
That's me in the middle, and BFF, to the left, with Dearest Sister to right.
We were both skinny little girls, me blond, she brunette.
Our mothers attended the same church where we were in the same Sunday School class, much to the dismay of our teachers. We were sometimes out of control. We also attended Vacation Bible School at this church (and no other, unlike some kids who roamed the different VBSs…shock horror!) in the summer; the highlight for me was always the refreshment time of Kool-Aid and homemade cookies!
During church we begged to be allowed to sit together during service. Rarely did this happen. Our mothers were wise…or tired of putting up with our…silliness. The begging began again after church to be able to spend the afternoon together.
Since my mother took my sister and I out to my great aunt’s for Sunday dinner, and it generally wasn’t a big deal for there to be one more, BFF often would come with us. Great Aunt Ruth lived in the family homestead, a huge four story Victorian farmhouse built at the turn of the last century, which we generally had run of. There are lots of stories there…
More often than not, we spent one night over at each other’s house on the weekends. We were together all summer long, when there weren’t 4-H projects to be worked on. By me. When everyone was having fun…at the best swimming pool EVER!
The powers that be separated us in third grade, which was pretty darn devastating, then her family moved in fourth grade. Not moving out of state, and with several of her relatives in town, we still had some opportunities to see each other. About the time her family returned, my mother decided we needed to leave the small hometown for the big city.
Look at us, all matchy matchy!Our mothers attended the same church where we were in the same Sunday School class, much to the dismay of our teachers. We were sometimes out of control. We also attended Vacation Bible School at this church (and no other, unlike some kids who roamed the different VBSs…shock horror!) in the summer; the highlight for me was always the refreshment time of Kool-Aid and homemade cookies!
During church we begged to be allowed to sit together during service. Rarely did this happen. Our mothers were wise…or tired of putting up with our…silliness. The begging began again after church to be able to spend the afternoon together.
Since my mother took my sister and I out to my great aunt’s for Sunday dinner, and it generally wasn’t a big deal for there to be one more, BFF often would come with us. Great Aunt Ruth lived in the family homestead, a huge four story Victorian farmhouse built at the turn of the last century, which we generally had run of. There are lots of stories there…
More often than not, we spent one night over at each other’s house on the weekends. We were together all summer long, when there weren’t 4-H projects to be worked on. By me. When everyone was having fun…at the best swimming pool EVER!
The powers that be separated us in third grade, which was pretty darn devastating, then her family moved in fourth grade. Not moving out of state, and with several of her relatives in town, we still had some opportunities to see each other. About the time her family returned, my mother decided we needed to leave the small hometown for the big city.
We did not ever move back, but BFF came to the big city for a week at a time some summers. Where there was more swimming. Always there was swimming....
And then there were the summers Dearest Sister and I went to spend in Greensburg, ostensibly with Great Aunt, but we spent nearly all our time with BFF. Now. There are some stories… which won’t be shared at this time…(remember, I moderate comments, Dearest Sister and Tish!)…or maybe ever. Some of them have to do with the swimming pool...
We grew up, and touched base occasionally, but as it often plays out, life, spouses, kids, schedules…blah blah blah…but whenever we were in the neighborhood, or she happened to be close to where we were, calls were made.
BFF and me, serendipitous donut meeting, with...different...hair....
One morning, Wonderful Guy and I headed up to Rocky Mountain for some hiking. Deciding I needed to be introduced to the local donut place, we stopped and grabbed a couple. Back in the car, and settling in to eat my goodies, Wonderful Guy said, ‘that woman thinks she knows you.’ I looked up to see knocking at my window my BFF. They were driving through Estes, and had just stopped at the donut place, too. Freaky!
Hmmm...Dearest Sister and I are still sort of matchy matchy...which is...fun...but a little perturbing...
She stills lives in our hometown, with those who have stayed to rebuild after the tornado that took just about everything except the swimming pool, the Big Well, and our memories of what it was like growing up there.
I remember her birthday every year to this day.
BFF says she always thought of Dearest Sister and me as sisters. And still does.
And we might as well be.
8 comments:
What a wonderful story! And, how great to meet again over donuts.
Orange-orange matchy-matchy. How cool. Sisters of the heart (and matching clothing.)
Sisters are odd things. After years of not being close my sister, she phoned me one day and asked what I was reading. I was about to tell her when she started in with "...and I am reading ..." and before she finished with the name of the book I knew we were reading the same thing. And we were. Amazing.
Seriously, what a great story! Loved this post.
P.S. I hope I didn't upset you too much with the iris. Bella didn't mean any harm. Really, she didn't. :(
What a gorgeous post! I feel like I know all three of you. And I LOVE stories like the donut stop - and not just because I like any justification for eating donuts.
BTW, you are just gorgeous.
Yeaaa!! I got a post on Needles of Iron! Weren't we cute little things?! (And we still are!) Tish
I can't imagine what you think I might say that would need to be "moderated"...
Life is amazing! Doesn't this make you think that there must be some plan somewhere?
I love your illustrated stories! So nice.
I love this post! and the photos are just wonderful! Thanks for sharing, Becky.
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