A picture from this week at camp. Have I mentioned that I am routinely staggered, brought to my knees, by the very fact that my daughter and my best friend from camp’s daughter, 12 weeks apart to the day, are walking on the beach together in such a special place? When I think of it I fall into the black hole of memory where individual moments flash and glint: when I first met Jess, the moment she pulled up to be my co-counselor in cabin 18 after we hadn’t spoken in several years, her gorgeous, sun-drenched wedding, the morning I called her in a whisper to say I’d seen a second, shadowy line on a pregnancy test. There are a million other memories that drift over me like snowflakes, together forming a bank that is one of the essential bulwarks of my life.
And now it is their turn. These girls, our girls, this next generation. The world turns forward.
May what they share on this magical stretch of coastline thread through their souls in the eternal, sustaining way it has through Jess’s and mine.
(Happy 10th birthday, Julia! I remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday. So much love to you.)
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