Around Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for the friends. The ones who stick with me, even if I rarely see them. The ones who I have fought with and can still meet for coffee. The ones who have seen me at my worst, depressed, on the floor in darkened hallways. The ones who still have open arms, and have shown me how to put enough stuff down so I can open up mine back.
“The marriages come and go but your friendships stay, which is the opposite of what it used to be, so that there will be people in our lives for 30 years and often it is not your husband, it’s your women friends, male friends with whom you come of age.”