Old Friends and Watermelon

I was reading my good friend Sarah's blog yesterday and was drawn into her descriptive encounter of a conversation she had with an old friend. Recently, one of my dear friends from childhood contacted me, so I gave her a call last night.

We chatted about what we are doing now, how are families are, etc, etc. But, what really caught my interest is how humble she still is after all these years.

Briefly we spoke of what we used to do on Friday nights and I realized that it isn't much different from what I find comfort in now - going to a cafe with a book, a latte or tea, and bouncing from topic to topic for hours with friends or strangers.

This morning, while I found it hard to get out of bed, I dragged myself to the kitchen to cut up some watermelon. I remember helping my mother carefully pitting those slippery, black gems from the bright magenta, juicy fruit for my great grandmother, Gammy.

"She loves this", mom would say, "you'll understand someday that it doesn't take much to brighten someone's day".

As I sliced mine up and placed it carefully in my lunch container I thought of my mother and Molly and my Grandmother and Gammy and my sister and Sarah and Lisa and Kate and Beth and Ginny... and all the wonderful women who have always been my grounding souls.