Lumps & Bumps

These are the months of the lumps and bumps. They are filled with the calls that you never want to get and the moments that take your breath away for a brief second. Moments that make time slow down or that cause you to wake up in the middle of the night, panicked and flustered with realization.

It makes me realize that we’re getting old. And that those things, these events that we would view through through the eyes of our parents, are ours now. Is this what being an adult means? Quiet tear-soaked phone calls?

But wait. There was this moment, in the midst of the confusion, sadness and hurt, that was great. Really really great. To begin, this was a physical lumps and bumps situation, which meant surgery, vagueness, and a scared friend. The morning of her surgery, our friends emailed each other, we called, we prayed, we stood strong, linking arms around her, ready to hear anything. Ready to do whatever it took.

And there was so much love. I think I said ‘I love you’ more times that day than I had in a while, to people I don’t say it to nearly enough. 20 years of friendship had formed an unbreakable bond, but with this, we were knitted together. A community of women ready to protect their own.

At the end of the day, the news was good! There were joyful, awkward tears (I was at a party, with lots of people when I heard the good word) and the feeling of  relief. It was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. Our tribe of women would remain whole for years to come.

That’s when I realized, on the other side of this whole messy thing, that I would never have to worry about being alone. Ever. These moments make you realize how very not-alone you are. And it’s beautiful.

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