There are three sleeping angels upstairs where normally there are only two. I am writing beside a nearly empty glass of wine, surrounded by toys, paper, and a child’s chair brought down from a bedroom. My daughters’ best friend, who happens to be the daughter of one of my own best friends growing up, is sleeping soundly beside the girl whose birthday is five days after her own, and who now proudly sports her first loose tooth. They are both snoring softly.
Today was filled with squeals of laughter, dancing, singing, snow; smelly markers, coloured paper, pizza; gossip, endless snacks, mugs of tea and, of course, a glass (or two) of wine. The stuff of friendship. Listening to the girls as they settled into sleep, whispering and giggling, shuffling under their covers, I was reminded of other sleepovers long ago (a result of the Ghostbusters Wii Dance video we grooved to?) and my heart filled with nostalgia. It’s not that I long for times past, or that I wish to relive my own youth. I’m quite happy to leave that in the past. It’s more the realization that this is what makes life so special, these moments with friends, and it is so beautiful watching my girls experience it with someone so connected to my own childhood. It’s been exactly the kind of day that you dream of having with your best friend when you grow up and have kids of your own. (Except for the dishes.)
Sitting here next to the (now empty) glass of wine, I feel gratitude for the friendships that fill my life, and those that will shape my daughters’ childhoods. I have been so incredibly lucky to have found (and been found by) so many amazing people. There is just nothing like the feeling you get from spending time with good friends.