We were an unlikely pair: tall and short, Mutt and Jeff. I had been in college for a couple of years, she had just arrived in our church college group. But we immediately bonded, our love of animals, our refusal to follow the popular crowd, our delight in playing in the orchestra cementing our relationship. We found we could tell each other anything, from her grief over a canine friend who had died to my struggles with fitting into social circles.
As life moved on we saw each other less often, although we when we did see one another there was no "catching up". I got married, she figured she'd remain single. I had a daughter, she applied to vet school. Neither of us worried that we'd grow apart. As Anne Shirley would say, we were kindred spirits.
Then she unexpectedly met Mr. Right and fell in love. She got married too. I sewed her wedding dress using her family's traditional Scottish plaid. I moved down to the Valley and had another baby. She was busy with volunteer work at church. We saw each other even less. Still, we felt comfortable with one another. Still Mutt and Jeff. We both loved Bagpipe music. We got together to go camping in the rain.
Our lives are somehow growing more parallel again. She had her first baby this summer and became a SAHM. I brought home our third and at last we are matched again, sharing stories about rolling babies and naptimes. We still rarely see one another. But when we do, it's just like it's always been. I make her hot cocoa, her favorite. She listens to my dreams of making a wood shop in my garage. She gives me advice about our recalcitrant Beagle. We laid our babies side by side, laughing at their antics.
Sometimes God brings a person into our lives who is one in a million, who fits like a puzzle piece. Someone with whom it doesn't take any effort to be friends. When He does, all we can do is thank Him and enjoy the relationship. No matter where she ends up moving or how busy we get, we know that we'll still get together and drink cocoa and it will be like we never left.