Tag Archives: francesca

K Is for Kindred Spirit

Published / by Kim / 4 Comments on K Is for Kindred Spirit

When I was little, we moved a lot. I was in a new school in new towns in 1st, 2nd, 4th, 5th, and 6th grades, another one in another town for junior high, and then a private high school, where I got to stay until I graduated. As you can imagine, moving so much made it hard to develop any lasting friendships. I’ve always felt like an outsider among groups of friends, like I don’t fit in anywhere, and I’m sure that moving around had a lot to do with that.

It didn’t help much that I’m a natural introvert, so making new friends has never been easy for me. I’ve always felt more comfortable in my own head and in books than interacting with other people, though I sometimes wonder if that’s as much a result of moving so much as it is an innate inclination. I think I also, at some point, stopped really putting a lot of effort into friendships, because what was the point when I would most likely be leaving at some point? It was easier to move away from people I didn’t really care about than to leave really good friends.

But there’s always been one exception to this, and that exception is my friend Francesca. We met in 2nd grade, when I was 6 and she was 7.  I don’t remember if we bonded instantly upon meeting, but we pretty quickly became fast friends. It seems like I was at her house every day after school, and her family was like a surrogate family for me. Here we are having a tea party on a cardboard box in her yard (me on the left, her on the right):

K Is for Kindred Spirits

We had some arguments over stupid things, like kids do. There was the Helen incident, when the popular girl in our class decided to not like Francesca. When Helen decided to not like you, that meant none of the other girls were allowed to like you. I cringe to think of it now and am ashamed to admit that I didn’t stick by my friend during that time, but somehow we made it through that and stayed friends.

There was the time we were mad at each other over SOMETHING, I have no idea what, and had a fight outside her house. We yelled and she tried to hit me with her hair, and then her mother came out and offered us glasses of milk to cool off.

There was the Great Honeysuckle Purge of 3rd Grade, which I won’t relate here right now, to spare myself her groans when she reads this. Suffice to say that the honeysuckle incident has gone down in infamy and Francesca is thoroughly sick of hearing about it, but when I saw her mother recently at her bridal shower, the first thing she said to me was, “The last time I saw you, you said I was an overbearing mother” and the second thing she said to me was, “Do you remember when you ate the honeysuckle?”

Somehow, Francesca and I stayed friends through all my moves. We talked on the phone without seeing each other in person for years. As we grew up, we remained interested in the same things. When we could both drive, we saw each other a little more frequently. We went to concerts together, went to Cape Cod together, and just generally spent more time together.

A couple of years after college, we drifted apart and didn’t see each other or speak for a few years. I’m not really sure what happened, but I suppose I just didn’t put much effort into it. My mid 20’s were a crazy, selfish, and did I meantion crazy? time of my life. But in 1999, when I was getting ready to be married, I was thinking a lot about her. I was remembering how we always talked about how we would be in each other’s weddings, and I started to realize how much I wanted her there at my wedding. So I sent her an invitation, along with a letter telling her how much I missed her and wanted her to come.

She did come, and suddenly we were in each other’s lives again. And 2 months ago, I was maid of honer at HER wedding.

Here we are last weekend, knitting at Yankee Stadium and trying to be alert for foul balls while the husbands watched the game (me on the left again, her on the right again):

K Is for Kindred Spirits

So K is for Kindred spirit, and also for Kim, and for Knitting!

Bridal Showers As a Full-Contact Sport

Published / by Kim / 2 Comments on Bridal Showers As a Full-Contact Sport

Saturday afternoon, we threw a bridal shower for my very dear friend F. I think it went splendidly, despite a few bumps in the road along the way during the planning*.

F. and I have been friends since I was 6 and she was 7, which is more years ago than I care to remember, but we’re in our third decade of friendship. Crazy, right? Because of our long friendship and because she is so happy with her husband-to-be – a prince finally found after a whole lot of toads – it was really important to me to make sure this day was special for her. And I think it was. She seemed pretty pleased with it all, and I think everyone who attended had a great time. I’m really happy with how it all turned out.

Of course, it really wasn’t a full-contact event. That’s just a joke, but I ended up as injured as if it was one. During food prep Friday night, I nearly severed a fingertip while chopping apples. Just the fleshy pad at the tip of my finger, not the bone, but there were some touch and go moments while Scott and I pondered the emergency room. Eventually, I decided against it, and that’s fine, because I don’t think stitches were necessary. The edges of the cut are even, not ragged, and we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly** It’s staying closed on its own, too, so that’s good. I was going to get a tetanus shot yesterday, but I got lazy and didn’t, and now I probably won’t. Don’t lecture me. Shush.

Then, on Saturday, my husband decided to drive through Manhattan to the bakery to pick up the cupcakes, instead of taking the Cross Bronx and coming down the west side, which resulted in us sitting in bumper to bumper traffic for 45 minutes. THAT resulted in me getting out of the car and running to Ninth and 37th from Sixth and 40th, then back up to Ninth and 41st, because the bakery moved and I didn’t know, in shoes that were NOT meant for cross-town sprints. So my heels are blistered and hurt, and I’m so grateful right now that I don’t have to wear shoes most days, because that would be ouchy.

But it was all for a good cause, and I’d do it all over again, partially severed fingertip and all, if it meant giving F. a special day.

I should also mention that her future in-laws stepped up to the plate big time and opened their home to us for the shower when we had to change the original plans. It’s a warm and welcoming family F. is marrying into, and I couldn’t be happier for her.

*The surprise was blown early on by a very apologetic grandmother, the bridesmaid at whose home it was supposed to be ended up being put on permanent bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy, etc. You know, normal shower drama! Hopefully getting this out of the way early will ensure an uneventful wedding day.

**Good thing I remember something of my first aid training from 15 years ago!