LAST WEEK I hosted a luncheon for three women I have met since moving to Maine eight years ago. It was the first such occasion because it has taken that long for us to approach what is commonly called “being friends.” While all of them are lovely people and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, still part of me was holding my breath the whole time. This is, after all, Maine, and I’m from New York, so were I to really let myself go I’d surely offend someone. Or at least that’s how I felt.
Despite political differences or personal tastes, old friends see through all the accumulated protective layers to the essence of who you really are. There is simply nothing like them.
Andrea Rouda blogs at The Daily Droid.