It is time. I have been putting off this see-ya-later post because, well, denial has been a sweet refuge lately. But here goes, time to dig deep and face the truth that my time with these beautiful ladies as neighbors has come to an end. As new people move into their old apartments, I can no longer pretend that they were just joking when they moved out 3 months ago. But that just means that skype will be connecting us rather than potato nights and brunches.
I feel so blessed to know these women. We have shared life together for the past two years and I am inexplicable better for it. I really believe that friendships shape who we are and I am so glad to have been able to spend 3 out of 7 nights a week with such amazing women. We realized that in the CRW world, where everyone is in transition, friendships are fast-tracked. Normally, people see their friends once a week or once a month. Here, were hanging out is as easy as firing up the grill and sending a text- multiple nights a week.
Thank you for the:
Faith, love, encouragement, prayer, hope, laughter, brunch, coffee, potatoes…
If I could sign up to live near them for the rest of my life, I would. What I just love is that these are women who are who they are and they own it. If you hate camping, you just go ahead and hate camping and that is just fine.
We have shared so much and done so much together that I wanted to capture that in a farewell (avoiding the word goodbye here) gift. I did 3 paintings that represented our time together for them to take to their next homes to remember Princeton. Please bear with me as I didn’t think to take better pictures before giving them away.
- Saturday Morning brunches that would last for hours
- Birthday and Christmas Parties and weekly dinners together,
- Grilling out in front of our building at the picnic tables and talking until the sun went down
In the end, this post can only be a small gesture of appreciation and explanation of that which words cannot do justice to.
Where two or three gather together, there am I with them