i love me a good girls night (lets have one, yes?). girls nights are good for the soul. its nice to slap on some lipstick, spritz on some perfume (because friends appreciate that kind of stuff) and get away for an hour or two to discuss life and all its weirdness.
these friends of mine, the ones we dined with, have been my friends since back before the maturation program in elementary changed our lives forever. can you believe this!? pre-maturation program friends!!! in fact, i think i can remember talking to these exact friends (horrified, of course) in the bathroom after that dreaded program took place, and now here we are, all grown up, leading our own grown up lives. some of us have babies, some of us are married, some of us have rad careers and impressive college degrees and independence to boot. and we aren't kids anymore and we don't see each other nearly enough, but still, when i'm with them, it always feels like nothing has changed.
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so tonight, after the dessert was devoured and the bill was paid, i strapped my baby in the car and turned on some music and drove us home from girls night under the warmth of the sunset. and as i drove, for whatever reason, i got to thinking about all the people in my life, and what they might be up to tonight.
i thought a lot about my friends, about my gjo studying his brains out at home, about my crazy siblings off making plans and families and lives for themselves, and then because i couldn't help it, i started to think about my pansy.
pansy is my grandma, but pansy isn't really her name. i mean, if you meet her in person, you should call her val or grandma moffitt, but as for me, i will call her pansy. pansy wears lipstick every day and she kisses me right on the lips every time she sees me, even if the lipstick is the brightest shade of pink. pansy writes me love letters and mails them to me in hand-painted envelopes covered in shaky, beautiful cursive. pansy reads my blog when she can remember how to find it and pansy drove 45 minutes in a snowstorm one afternoon to visit me in the hospital and rub my back with her arthritic fingers as i cried.
she is the person i call when i am hurting. she is the person who taught me to paint and and make pie crust and appreciate an afternoon at the opera club. there is no one in the world i love more than my grandma pansy.
lately my pansy has been sick. and the fact that she isn't doing well has made me think a lot about how much i love her and whether i am savoring these moments that surround me just the way that she would want me to. i think if pansy were feeling up for it, she would have loved a girls night tonight. she would have left 30 minutes early and been waiting sweetly to be seated when everyone else arrived. she would have worn great turquoise jewelry and pink lipstick and ordered something special off the menu.
i think she would have enjoyed every minute of her evening. she would have laughed and cried and told her friends she loved them and said a prayer of thanks as she raced the night sky home.
i think she would tell me to slow down a bit. to enjoy the sunset as it fades. to have myself a girls night and order more than one dessert at the end of the night, if i can't make up my mind.
that's what pansy would do.
