Celebrating M

Yesterday was my bestest friend M's birthday. I had planned on writing this yesterday, but just didn't quite get to it . . . We've been friends for more than 20 years, which in this day and age seems to be getting less and less common. Oh, people can "keep in touch" better, with email and MySpace and cell phones with nation-wide coverage, but it seems that the easier access doesn't mean the friendships really remain in tact. M moved to New York City after high school, in the time when you had to write real letters or decided if you could afford the long-distance call. I was scared when she left, because NYC seemed so far away and I worried she'd outgrow me. M, hugely talented, smart and fun too, would be overrun with cool friends from all over the world and boring old Jami would be long forgotten. People grow, people change. But M stuck with me, that's the kind of gal she is. We wrote, we called, we saw each other at Christmas. M was the first person I called when the Husband proposed. For a long time I remained grateful she still wanted to be my friend, and if that sounds pathetic and desperate, well, it's how I felt at the time. Now that we've both matured, M is still one of the most important people in my life. She's the sister I never had, my sounding board, my keeper of secrets. When I found out I was pregnant, I told the Husband, then M. When I miscarried, M knew just what to say. Before I'd even told my family about Eddie, M knew. M is Eddie's godmother, not just because they adore each other, but because I without her support I'd be in the loony bin for sure. What I love about our friendship is how we are exactly alike but totally opposites. If you've ever had a friend like that, you get it; if you haven't, I can't explain it any better. I don't want to wax on all day about her, boring all the rest of you with my tribute to M, or have you get the wrong idea about us. We're not friends of Sappho, not that there's anything wrong with that. I love the Husband and she loves her man. We love each other, but uh, not in that way. But without a doubt, I love M, and I am blessed to have her in my life. I know I can count on her, tell her anything, trust her motives and know she'll tell me if I look fat. And even when we annoy each other, even if we fight, I know she'll always forgive me and if nothing else, we've always got each other. In 60 years from now, I hope we're sitting in rockers on the front porch, talking about the new season of Holo-TV shows and drinking beer. Love ya, M. Happy Birthday and many, many happy returns!