Back in 2005 a small handful of women of varying ages began blogging. This was before blogs were monetized or made the morning news. Before Facebook and texting and Instagram and Twitter.

Some of our posts were silly. Some were funny. Many skimmed along the surface of our lives. But some were real and raw. And when we had the courage to reveal a true part of ourselves, we began to connect.

Some of us had begun as strangers. Distanced acquaintances several times removed. Friends of a friend. Some were already longtime friends. But our stories build bridges and friendships and a community.

Over the years a couple made names for themselves. Some made money. And a lot more friends. Some of us quit blogging altogether. None of us has time to read blogs so much anymore. In any case, there are now far too many to read.

But for a couple of years there and through a regular look into one another’s daily lives in a way that had previously been unprecedented, we had something special.

Most of us met each other in real life at least once. Some of us got together for lunch once in awhile. We took meals into one friend when she had a new baby. Cried with another when her mom was diagnosed with cancer. And literally screamed full voice in a crowded restaurant when another announced she was by some miracle pregnant after years of broken-hearted infertility.

Eventually we grew apart. The significance of our daily lives diluted in the swelling sea of women blogs and mommy blogs and marketing and monetizing.

Drama tore us apart in ways that we would never have imagined or wished upon ourselves.

Most of us still hung on to the fragments, and loved and supported and connected best we could when swells of pain and sorrow rolled over one or the other of us.

And yet. This week when one of our own was horribly injured in a weight lifting competition and another’s ex husband took his life, I watched us rally. I got messages and texts. Our hearts stretched back out to one another. We checked in. We prayed for each other. And we loved.

And I am reminded the bonds of friendship are not to be taken lightly. Or for granted.

2 thoughts on “2005

  1. Each of those women* continue to hold a piece of my heart and will forever. I hold a place in my heart for each of them*.
    *Especially you

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