This weekend my darling friend Hillary got married. She and I met during our semester abroad in Aberdeen, Scotland, and while we’ve stayed in touch, we haven’t seen each other in seven years, so I was excited and grateful to be invited. To Washington I went.
On Saturday morning I flew to Seattle, where my equally darling friend Emily (whom I also haven’t seen since 2006) picked me up at the airport. When she hopped out of her little silver Honda outside of baggage claim, I could have cried out of excitement. It seems strange that a friendship formed over just six months can last, but these two ladies were my soul sisters in Scotland. As Hillary explained it, we were already formed enough as people, yet the experience was so formative, we bonded really intensely.
Silly little things like hearing Hillary’s voice and seeing Emily twirl her long hair brought back memories of a time that was so meaningful to me that I got the country’s national flower tattooed on my shoulder. I thought about the time we tried to make s’mores with Digestives and blocks of Cadbury chocolate at a bonfire on the beach, afternoons spent drinking tea in our dingy flats, and the time Hillary watched me almost get arrested in Paris (another story for another day…). I remembered runs with Emily around Seaton Park, when she patiently endured my whining and told me stories about her wild and beautiful friends.
The wedding was at TerraBella in Conway, Washington. No offense to my other married friends, but this was the most charming wedding I’ve ever attended. TerraBella is out in the country surrounded by flowers and cool old buildings, and after the ceremony, we ate wood-fired pizza and homemade fruit pies and then danced as the sun set.
The “hardy guests” continued to a divey local pub, where, as luck would have it, it was karaoke night. It’s amazing how quickly “I don’t plan on drinking much tonight” turns into “singing Ginuwine’s ‘Pony’ is the best idea you’ve ever had!” (Not to brag, but it was epic.)
Before Emily, her cousin, and I drove back to Seattle that night, we said goodbye to Hillary with hugs and “I love yous.” Her husband seems like such a cool, kind, and romantic guy, and it made me happy to see her surrounded by so much love.
Sunday morning I was able to wake up, look over, and see my dear friend Emily next to me, and despite a too-much-fun headache, my little heart felt a wash of happiness. We promised not to wait another seven years before seeing each other again.
Emily headed back to Portland while I took a cab to my friend Andy’s houseboat for lunch before my flight. Yes, you read that right: apparently people can live in floating houses in Seattle. This place was unreal – they open their bedroom door to the Puget Sound (I think! My geography is terrible). They can literally step out of their house and into the water. Andy and I had lunch on the roof of their boat and chatted until it was time for me to leave.
Seeing long-lost best friends and having lunch by the water on a sunny day are truly tonic for the soul. I left Seattle feeling happy and thankful for so many things: for knowing these people, for having the means to go see them, and for looking forward to Denver awaiting me upon my return.