My friend Songbird has a wonderful blog, Set Free, which I read daily, share with my partner, show to friends, and generally revel in. I have known Songbird as long as I can remember, and despite periods of living in different cities and being out of touch, we have always had a deep bond of faith and friendship. And now, because of her, I have a blog!
When we were little girls our fathers were law partners: hers older and famous, mine younger and just starting out. Because Songbird's father was famous, she got to meet other famous people. When Songbird met Nixon, I neither knew nor cared, but Captain Kangaroo was another matter, and I got a little rush of awe every time I passed the photo of Songbird and the Captain standing together. (Both of us met Pat Robertson and Tammy Faye Bakker, but that's a story for another day.)
The Songbird of long ago lives on in the older and wiser Songbird of today. Then, as now, there were books, music and church. Songbird could read by the time we were in kindergarten and skipped a grade in elementary school. She could memorize anything, and amazed us all by reciting the entire fall television line-up. (Once, when my father misplaced the paper, he had me call her on the phone to find out when a certain program came on.) In middle school, she wrote a novel set in the Napoleonic era, featuring fainting couches and broken hearts.
Always, there was church. Songbird's Baptist church and my Episcopal church occupied a huge space in each of our lives, and between us, we may have created the first, last and only Southern Baptist/Episcopal youth group partnership. And there was music -- I played the guitar (badly) and Songbird sang (beautifully) at church and in school.
Not long ago, Songbird's blog played matchmaker, and we were re-united. I am grateful beyond all reason to be back in Songbird's circle. She remains the same sensitive, insightful, and minutely observant person I've always known. More than that, she knows the trajectory of my life, which has had its share of ups and downs, and accepts me as I am. It feels like a blessing. Thank you, Songbird!
P.S. Here's Songbird when we were just a little older than her daughter, the Princess.
(Note that even in early adolescence her skin is p-e-r-f-e-c-t. I am still jealous.)