Skip to main content

Five Minute Friday - Celebrate

Linking up with Five Minute Fridays
to write about one word for five minutes


"I get to see four different groups of people I love and don't live here anymore." I told my dad.  His eyes crinkle happy framing the dark blue.
"Good, Somer.  I'm glad."  He smiles and kisses my forehead as we talk about who I'll get to see this week.
Within the sun rises of eight days I'll see four groups of people that are special to me.  And I hadn't known and hadn't planned it.  Sometimes you get your lap filled like that.
This week of unexpected reunions, hugs, and laughter started at dusk with kids playing tag and jumping over creek banks.  One little bleach blonde boy falling in because being two and wearing golashes is problematic.  I was at the same house I had attended parties at and had knocked out a boys two front teeth. I was at my childhood friend Molly's parent's house.  I watched my girls race around the twilight with the children of people I was a child with.  It was a birthday party.  A celebration of my friend Molly's girl.  I watched my girls huddle around her girl and I remembered way back when Molly looked exactly like her girl, same enormous brown eyes and remembered how we both became friends over musty library books. You had to be friends with her when you met her.  She just wouldn't have it any other way.

Molly's girl and my girl.  Just like us twenty five years ago...

The week marches on and I sit quietly squinting against September sunshine trying to see the brightest blue eyes I've ever known.  She's in from Atlanta and willing to try to carry on a conversation with me that was interrupted countless times with questions from the five kids between us. We first became friends while she encouraged me to be brave enough to maybe homeschool my girls.  I love how gutsy she is and how she isn't afraid to be bold.
I told her about my special week with so many close friends, how unexpected and a bit strange it was to see that many people in that frame of eight days,
"It is just God's way of showing you how much He loves you." ( I wish i could rightly describe just how piercingly bright her eyes are.  Can't.  But they are breathtaking)
My lips spread into a slow smile, I tilt my head.
"Hmm...I hadn't thought of that. I guess so. I like that." I say to her summation.
She was one of the ways.  This feisty lady who is old enough to be my mom but gets me, she was one of the ways. We took turns disciplining kids, rolling our eyes at the humorous cadence of our constantly interrupted conversation, and we were really honest with each other.

The following evening I'm sitting at a table unashamedly cuddled in a blanket in the chill of almost fall nights.  The table encircled with six of us who have known each other for about twenty years.  Or more. Leaning in and laughing, learning about what is now new in the life of the others.
It's rare to keep close at heart, for so many years people that you sat at the same lunch table with in fourth grade, wrote notes to in middle school, and fill the pages of your year book with ridiculous inside jokes now forgotten.  Four of us also went to college together and there was quite a bit of laughter over some of those freshmen stories.
I found myself scanning around the table thinking about how much certain things had changed and how much some things hadn't.  Like the nature of someone who really knows you like the palm of their own hand.  And honestly they really has held your hand almost the whole of your life and they somehow know what you are thinking before you confirm it, just looking at you.  I sat there and held the gaze of at least two friends like that.  You have to smile.  It's such gift.  Not one that you deserve or could have asked for, but one you treat as one of the richest treasures of your life.
In the conversations there was celebration over new houses, new jobs, and three newborn babies that we passed around.  I think my own newborn baby had the scent of six different perfumes on him at the close of the evening.
There is one more special evening to conclude this week of celebrating people I love.  Saturday I get to see someone who I definitely pounded the pavement with, spent hours in high school at the community pool with, and who always knows how to make me laugh.  She is also coming into town this week and I get to celebrate my friendship with her too.
She is such an inspiration to me.  Someone who is always positive no matter what life has thrown at her.  And it is a lot.  Her smile and spunky attitude is still intact.  I can't wait to talk with her about her new job and listen to all her blunt force comments, unfiltered for our enjoyment.
When I saw the word was celebrate I knew it was the perfect word for me this week...
Its been a celebration of friendship all week.
And really there is nothing like having some really good deep friendships to give richness to your life.  Nothing. And real relationships that you have invested a lot of time, snail mail, phone calls, morph into so many memories.  Enduring friendships are worth celebrating in part because they are gifts from God, ways He loves us, and also the mark of people willing to invest within each other.  Testaments to faithfulness and real love.
I could not agree more with this quote,


  1. What a great gift! So happy you were blessed with such an amazing week!

    Came over from fmf. God bless, Lyndse

  2. Aw, what beautiful photos and what a lovely celebration of friends. God does, indeed, strengthen us in just the way we need to find his strength--and I love it when he uses friends and family :).

  3. Wonderful words, Somer! Such a good reminder to cherish our friends.

  4. Somer,
    I haven't seen you at Holley's link-up so I hopped over and your baby is here! Love the photos! Hope all is well!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Free Writes #Wave

Four summers ago the first weekend in September marked one month.  One month lived out shaky and unsteady.  Just putting a few steps in front of the other and letting tears drip down faces or anger spill out at the sky.  "Why?"
I had watched my husband shake violently at the graveside of his twenty-six year old brother as he sat a few inches from the casket.
My usually stoic husband reached out for the casket as he passed by and I heard his voice crack as he called out his name.  One more time. I had never seen him stricken with grief.  That groan of emotion haunted me.   Those fifteen minutes spent under the funeral home's green awning the last minutes his family would ever be within arms length of this special brother.  A brother who had just slipped quietly out of this life beneath the green gold water of a river one steaming August day.  Bare chested and tan, jumping off the dock with friends.  Never to resurface again.
A lot of that week in August was just wakin…

Five Minute Fridays - "Last"

Last is such a final word, it’s a word that always makes us sit back and take note. We take note of the fact that something is about to draw to an end and we better enjoy the last drops, savor the last bites before its all gone. Like that last hot week of summer that we spend soaking up every last beam of Vitamin D. Or that last couple bites of a once a year Christmas dinner, slowly swallowed down. Or maybe the last night of a vacation where we try to take note of everything and know that we are returning to real world, real bills, real deadlines all seemingly too soon. Two weeks ago I experienced a last. For seven months I was given a gift. It was truly an unexpected gift. One I had never anticipated being given. For the past six years my sister Faith and I have lived in different cities for most of the time. We always mused over the idea that we should've lived together for at least one year of college. But from icy January 4th to steamy August 10th I had the gift…


Five Minute Fridays

Morning seems sacred to me.  Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
My parents are early morning people that like to eat full breakfasts and watch the sunrise on the porch. There's something exciting about watching the day open its' eye lids with the first glints of sun playing on the horizon edge.  Pale blues and periwinkles rouse us out of pitch black and many times morning rises in strength with extravagant colors.  It signals something new.  A new twenty four hours.  A new chance. Kind of like a new little slice of life.  We are mesmerized at first at the idea of new.  It's beautiful, holy, and hopeful.
Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken.  I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
Especially the last phrase, "God&…