Gratitude Friday...

Growing up, my house was smack in the middle of two girls my age, Beth and Libby.  One was up and over the hill and the other, four doors down the road in the opposite direction.  From fourth grade through high school graduation, we did life together.  Too many Friday nights to count, we would talk on the phone for an hour before we spent the night at one of our houses.  

You know, because staying up gigging and gossiping ALL NIGHT LONG was just not enough time.

If I close my eyes, I can picture each of their bedrooms.  And, really, considering I have the worst memory of any almost 38 year old who has ever lived, that's impressive.  Friday afternoons in high school were spent in Libby's living room while she French braided my very long hair.  That was the set hairstyle for the dance line.  (Almost twenty years later, I have yet to learn how to do it.)

In that living room was also Libby's mom.  A precious, sweet woman.  She smiled easily and had a make-you-join-in laugh.  She baked the MOST AMAZING Banana Nut Bread.  Occasionally, Libby would bring me a single foil-wrapped slice of heaven.  It was melt-in-your-mouth deliciousness.  She was a writer and loved music.  And raised her children properly...with a love of The Beatles.

In fact, likely the only thing all three of us girls agreed upon was The Beatles.  

She was our "person."  As the only stay at home mom of the three girls, she was our emergency contact and she took on that job lovingly.  When I came down to the garage one morning to a flat-as-a-pancake flat tire, one phone call to her (I still have their phone number memorized) and I was on my way to school in record time.  

Yes, I was that kid.  I went to school.  Now?  I'd totally skip.  Sorry, Mom.

There are few families I remember as fondly as those of these two girls.  

Last week, Libby shared on Facebook that her mother's health had taken a turn for the worse and the family was saying their goodbyes.  And this week, she passed.  

Such a precious woman.  Such a big part of my childhood.  Such an early age to leave.  

I am so grateful and BLESSED to have had friends who's parents loved me too.  Grateful and blessed to have sat in her living room.  Been spoiled by her food and her laughter and her love.  

Grateful to be reminded how far our ministries as mother extends.  To our children and to those children they will bring into my home.  May we never lose site of our calling as Jesus followers to love our neighbors.