As cliche as it is, much like (my) life, my road from Brooklyn to Venice isn’t exactly a direct one. I’ve been out of Brooklyn for one week now and yet have only gotten 600 miles away. Is been a week filled with (1) traffic – it took 3 hours just to get over the Verrazano Bridge (the first “are we there yet?” Came  from Sasha at exit 12 on the 278 in STATEN ISLAND (2) Mexican food and margaritas, starting with a birthday party in DC with a taco truck (and chocolate covered key lime pie flown in from Key West), and (3) lots of quality time with good friends, some of whom I’ve see regularly the past twenty years and others barely at all.

i had known what I would write my first post about, but no idea what the second would be about until tonight. And while I could go on about the key lime pie and traffic (for better or worse) and tie that into my journeys west, the friends fit into the story much better. I’ve been incredibly sad leaving my Brooklyn friends. It takes me a while to open up and feel like I’m offering others a friendship, even when they easily open up. And I feel like I just did that – finally – with so many people in our (old) neighborhood. I had this feeling like I would be starting from scratch again. I’d have no friends and feel unmoored and unconnected. It’d go back to that feeling that was familiar in 1996 when I first landed in NYC. The starting over wasn’t on the list of “pros” for this move.

Then – I was given this gift by the universe.  Our admittedly chaotic plan of vacationing in the Outer Banks (with a pitstop for a friend’s birthday in DC) before driving west gave me just what I needed. It led me to spending a morning (or midday, as the plan was a bit delayed) with my first NY roommate and one of my dearest friends. I hadn’t seen her in nearly 5 years – but it was like no time had passed and my heart felt a lot lighter leaving her house a few hours later. My kids were also happier (much) and we were introduced to Bergers Cookies – life (and our waistlines) might never be the same. But we talked and listened and laughed and cried (although ironically the crying started this visit off, rather than capped it off! I will never be accused of holding back tears).

Then came Outer Banks. It’s our 4th year coming with two of my best friends from college. We get 7 quality days (cut short by a few this year) of fun, sun (except the first year), and time together. Our kids play with each other and feel loved by all of us. One of my conditions of moving west was their promise that we’d still vacation together. It’s not just my time with them I wanted (they are fun! And nice!) but it’s my kids’ time with them. I’ve always envisioned my kids knowing well the people that know me best. I have felt that would give them a better understanding of who I am, and better security as they figure out who they are (and who they can be). As we laughed together, shared old stories and new adventures, weathered the thankfully few temper tantrums with good humor and moral support for each other, opened up about the current stressors of life (mine are no surprise – given the blog’s title) – I was reminded of this. And I saw that my kids see more of me – more of who I am at my very core – when I’m with my friends. Partially because I’m reminded of who I am at my very core as I’m around them. And to be honest, that core hasn’t changed much since 1996.  Or 1986 for that matter. It’s a little wiser, much less self conscious. A bit more forgiving and less stark in (certain) judgments (more stark in others).  But not too different otherwise. And partially because they bring things out of me that simply wouldn’t come out if I didn’t get the benefit of their company. Is like each of them sparks a different, slightly nuanced place in my heart and mind.

ironically my annual trip to North Carolina has also given me the chance to see an old friend and his family that live in Kentucky. As soon as I realized earlier that my week has been filled with friends in Maryland, DC, and Kentucky, all while in North Carolina and literally between homes and anchorless – I knew there was some story to tell. it takes a country to fill the void of Brooklyn, or something like that. But then as I sat having a drink with three of them last night the point of the story shifted just a little. I sat there getting bit by Mosquitos and feeling the heat of a little too much sun, the pain of having been hit on the head with a kayak paddle (my friends apparently aren’t the most graceful ocean kayakers) and feeling connected.  And feeling the same sense of contentment and care (and amusement! – some of them are a little crazy) for these other people as I felt sitting in living room on S Street in DC 20 years ago. And feeling known by knowing them. And feeling – happy? content? Comfortable? – knowing they knew details about me that even I had forgotten. And I was happy to remember! To be reminded of the places in my heart they occupy (and now, their kids as well, they all have awesome kids thaknow love being around), as they evoked the same emotion from me that they evoked so long ago.

And I feel so lucky to have friends like that in Brooklyn, yes. But also in Maryland. In Kentucky. In Oregon. In Los Angeles. all over San Diego. In Oakland. In Colorado (if you count family as friends and with the size of my family, I do). In Seattle. In Texas. And my children get to see me through all of your eyes when we spend time together, which matters to me. Because you help them know me. But also, I get to see me through your eyes (or hearts). and you help me remember the things about me that the pace and needs of life can bury.  Whether its every day or once every ten years. And I’m reminded, that friendship and connection isn’t constrained by city limits. Or time. Or generations.

So I remembered, despite the changes (more than I can even plan for), I’m not really starting over at all.

(And – unrelated side lessons. 1. Check to see if there is construction on any bridge before starting a long drive on it. 2.  It’s best to dehydrate kids on long road trips if you want to mtime decent time. 3. Thunderstorms will still scare your dog even if its a thunderstorm on vacation.  4.  5 kids can fit all on the top two twin bunks – you dont need the bottom ones. 5.  Don’t got 50 in 35 mph zone even if you are just 30 seconds from Your destination).

Now – off to Cleveland for stop two.