The Yellow Brick Road

I have a terrible time seeing myself in 10, 15, 20 years. I have always had trouble with "envisioning" where I would be. I know what I want, not how or if I'll get there. But looking back, how easy it is to see what led me here. Like a maze, it's so easy to see the critical turns in hindsight.


Snapshot of a summer's day at the community pool. Between two lounge chairs sit: my 12-in-a-few-more-days Princess, Kate's 5 year old son, my 7 1/2-year old Dictator, Kate's almost 7-year old daughter, and Kate's 2-year old son. Bug-bitten, pool shriveled, eating snacks, wrapped in towels, squinting at the sun, laughing. Together.


And I have a moment, a flashback. A cold day in December 1990. I'm being silly and laughing and skipping along a sidewalk 100+ miles from this place. Arm-in-arm with Kate (and a Boy who wasn't THE Boy for her). Singing songs from The Wizard of Oz. Until I popped my ankle and had to go to the hospital.

I spent the next 10 days navigating the sidewalks and finals while propped up on crutches. Dodging slight insults from a Boy who wasn't THE Boy for me.

I spent the next nearly 10 years going on to another school, more Boys, finding Husband, finding Kate again. Kate, who navigated schools and trips to Europe and Boys and adventures that fascinate and terrify me, the homebody. It helps that I moved so close to the town she grew up in -- the one with the magical sounding name. We laugh about it now -- how enthralled I was with her little Ohio town.

And how glad I am to share with her our lives. The Boys who weren't THE ONE for her or me. The bond of similar location -- one she knows since childhood and I've learned as an adult. The bond of same college, same professors, common friends. And now the bond of our children and their friendship.

Snapshot: June 1997 and I'm very pregnant. Kate drives me the 100 miles to my hometown, for my baby shower. She's the one who predicted I'd have a girl, 9 days late. I can still see the candle as a prize that my mother brought to her, that July, to award her for her amazingly accurate guess.

And yesterday, squinting into the sun, Kate and I looked at that same girl -- all elbows and hipbones and freckles and braces, sun streaks and green eyes. And all wrapped up in Kate's 5-year adoring boy. And my daughter who followed, joined at the hip to Kate's daughter. And the magic of a 3rd child, all Kate's doing, there! No thirds or boys for me.

On the sidewalk in 1990, I didn't know where I'd end up. I couldn't see where I'd be. At that point, I just knew that I really liked Kate -- she's my "vanity friend" -- she reminds me of me. All extroverted and silly and writery. And yet, so different. She's braver than I am. She's so much more prone to try, to do, to attempt, to call me on things. She has sisters where I have brothers. She goes on adventures! But Kate is Kate, and I always knew I liked her.

So glad, here and now, to have followed that yellow brick road -- that road diverging in a yellow wood -- that path I took that led me here: with Husband, with The Princess and The Dictator. With friends new and old. With bonds being forged over blueberry newtons and SPF 50.

And with Kate, who nags me nearly every day to write, to put my ass in the seat, to attempt, to dream. So that maybe, 10, 15, 20 years from now, we'll have something even more amazing to laugh about.