A brief history lesson…
I attended the wedding of my best girlfriend this weekend. She and I have been friends for a little over 21 years. You can say that the wedding was just one of many incredible things we’ve shared since we first met.
I recall playing a game called M.A.S.H. with her when we were little. This game is sort of like numerology for hopeful little girls. You give random names, numbers and colors to categories like, “Number of Children,” “Name of Husband,” “Color of Wedding.” Then you pick a number that will cycle its way through your list and cross off every possible destiny until you are left with one single combination. We had played this little game many times as young playmates. The exact wedding had been determined many times over during the course of our friendship.
And then suddenly there we were. The game had become our reality. For all to see, to behold and to experience. Suddenly, the little childhood game was no longer fantasy on paper. The game had become our lives.
I profoundly honor this little section of my path with her. I cherished every moment I could connect with my grown-up best childhood friend through hugs and laughter. We enjoyed this occasion as if we had been waiting for it all our lives.