I have a new friend, L. And she is amazing.
I once tried to explain to a few of my students how friendships will change over the course of their lives. I told them that there are two kinds of friendships - those that are thrust upon you and those that you choose for yourself. The former happens as early as grammar school and carries through high school. It's hard not to form bonds with people you spend every day with, in and out of classes and activities and clubs. You're often joined together by common interests - simple ones, but common nonetheless. These friendships carry you through break ups and new hairstyles, acid washed jean disasters and front row seats to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. (At least in my own experience).
The latter is something far different. The relationships you form in adulthood are far more selective. Like those when you are younger, they often begin with a single premise - "We are moms," or "our children attend school together," or "We love wine," or, in those most blessed of circumstances, all three of the aforementioned. However, the test does not end there. In adulthood, we are quick to then divide those two groups into friends and acquaintances. The acquaintances are lovely in their own right. They provide smiles and small talk after Mass. They allow us guaranteed company at a school function. But the friends we hold onto as tightly as we can and hold on for dear life.
Almost ten years ago, I met V. I had met all kinds of new moms as I ventured into that unknown world of parenting. Most became dear acquaintances. V? I held on to her for dear life, and I still won't let go. I can count only a few woman on that same list. And now? I've got one more.
I've only known L for a little less than a year, but I feel like I've known her for much longer. I know that much of what unites us is a common bond of motherhood, but we share a special type of motherhood - extra worries, extra doctors, extra fears of the great unknown in our girls' future. She may never know just how comforting it is for me - on those nights when I tuck my A into bed and wonder where her life will take her, how she'll cope with those challenges that inevitably lie ahead - to know I'm not alone in those worries. She doesn't just sympathize. She can empathize even more deeply. And that carries over me such a sense of peace and relief.
Today, we raced together at our church picnic. Or she raced in the same race I did. But as I turned the corner at a mile and a half, pushing chunky C along with me in the jogging stroller, she was headed to the finish line. And not because she's never had kids (she has four), or because she is younger (she's actually only the teensiest bit older than I am), but because she is strong and brave.
So tonight, I celebrate her first place victory with a rockin' new popcorn recipe. And M and I will watch the finale of one of our favorite shows, Endeavor, and munch on this special treat in her honor. And then, I'll stop making popcorn and vegging out in front of the TV at night if I have any hope to even finish a race with her in the same ten-minute time frame.To my dear friend, L - congrats!
You need:
1/4 c. vegetable oil (I use sunflower)
2/3 c. popcorn kernels
1/2 stick butter
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning
2 Tbsp. Parmesan cheese
1 clove garlic, peeled and smashed
On low heat, melt the butter. Add the garlic clove and Italian seasoning. Turn off the heat and leave to infuse. In a large pot, add the vegetable oil on low heat. Add three kernels. Close the lid. Once all three kernels pop, take the pan off of the heat. Remove the three popped kernels and add the 2/3 c. kernels. Count to 30. Put the pan back on the heat and pop until you hear no more popping, shaking the kernels around a bit to prevent sticking or burning.
Put the popcorn in a large paper bag. Remove the garlic from the butter. Add the salt, butter, and Parmesan cheese and shake like crazy. Pour into bowls, devour, and promise to run more often the next day.
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