Thank you, my sisters

I finally got around to watching my latest Netflix movie.

It's been sitting innocuously on the TV for a little over a week; The red envelope reminding me it was still there, waiting, as I passed by at least 50 times each day.

I was waiting for the opportunity to watch it by myself. It was a chic flick in a house of boys after all. Somehow I just couldn't see my trio of men getting into "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2."

The opportunity finally arose today as my youngest decided he was still a bit sleepy after dropping big brother off at school. So, while he watched some old-school "Godzilla," in the den, I made a pot of tea and snuggled into my overstuffed leather chair for some self indulgence.

What I wasn't expecting was how watching the changing lives of these four friends would trigger memories and emotions about the women in my life, my sisterhood.

Maybe I was just in a sentimental mood, or maybe I'm just sappy. Either way, I thought about how my friends have marked me and changed me. Some for better, some for worse, but all making impressions that have molded me into who I am.

There are girlfriends from grade school and high school who helped me grow in ways they will never know. People such as Donna Demel.

Donna was probably my first friend in second grade at Eisenhower Elementary. I was the new kid in class for the third time, thanks to my brother's penchant for getting expelled.

Cute, petite Donna with her brown, bobbed hair and glasses. She introduced herself and showed me the ropes. I was a poor kid at what was seen to be one of the wealthier schools in town. Only I didn't know I was poor, and looking back, everyone else must have.

Half of the kids who went to school there were cousins or had known each other for life. Not so for me. But there was tiny little Donna, courageously welcoming me, offering me her friendship. I will always remember her independence and strength in doing something different.

There were some not-so-nice girls, too. There was the high school coach's daughter who invited me to her birthday party because "she wanted to make fun of me." A fact she pointed out to me in front of everyone. She taught me that cruelty could make me stronger and more independent. She taught me to choose my friends wisely.

There was the tall girl for whom competition was breath. She took it as a personal affront that within a year I outgrew her. I guess that's what drew her attention because after that, I was her target. She teased and bullied me. I turned to books to escape. Thanks to "tall girl" I found an entire world that would always welcome me. I also learned to stand up for myself. Those were powerful gifts.

I probably didn't feel like I fit in until I hit high school. But, there were girls along the way whom I learned from.

There were the Cox girls, Camille and Melissa. They taught me about sisterhood. They taught me that no matter how much you fought, sisters were sisters for life. They stood up for one another. They looked out for one another. They taught me the importance of girl power. They also taught me about fashion and makeup. I should have listened more. I'm still a little too into comfort. I clean up nicely, though.

They were there for me when my grandad died, when I got married, when my mom died. I'm still in contact with Melissa. She's the most positive person I've ever met. I certainly hope I learn that lesson!

There was the best friend who thought it was OK to see my first boyfriend behind my back. We lived, breathed ate and slept at each others' houses. I think losing her was worse than losing him. I did learn a few things, though. Friendship is not one-sided. It's not convenient. It takes work.

I did, however, gain a new best friend out of the deal. I wasn't the only one my former friend had hurt.

Brandi Brown and I were best buds. Our mutual hurt was a starting point. We lived around the corner from each other. We gave each other rides to school. We spent part of every day together. We were inseparable on the weekends. We were very different people. Her parents were lawyers. Mine were blue collar. She was beautiful. I was awkward at best. Somehow, though, we fit. Friendship was easy with her. She taught me to dream and go after those dreams.

After high school, we kind of lost touch. We went to different colleges and grew apart, but she left footprints on my heart. I was at her wedding, and she was at mine. She was there for me at Mom's funeral, too.

There were others, too. Lisa Legleiter, Raelene Harper and ValJean Johnson to name a few. They taught me there's a lighter side to life. They taught me to dance, to have fun. To smile more. They also taught me rum is good.

Raelene also taught me that competition among friends could be a healthy thing. We were in journalism classes together. I like to think that we challenged each other to be better and work harder.

Cheryl Detmer and I have been friends since junior high. What hasn't she taught me? Her independence and laughter are a beautiful thing. She was there through breakups, breakthroughs and new life directions. She spent the night with me before the SATs. We went to senior prom together. I was at her wedding. She was a bridesmaid in mine. I borrowed her earrings, and she calmed me down when Mom and I had a fight. She's taught me that time and distance don't matter. Whenever we talk it's like we've never been apart.

In college, four people stand out. Laura Pelletier, Kathy Smith, Lora Gilliland and Amy Culling. I met three of them in the dorms as a freshman. I met Amy my junior year. All are still dear friends.

Laura and I were roommates for at least a couple of years. Her intelligence, sense of humor, love of books and all things vampire appealed to me from the start. Laura, is there any Vampire movie we didn't watch? We never had classes together, but we were inseparable nonetheless.

Her laugh was and is infectious. There wasn't anything we couldn't talk about. She almost became my sister-in-law. She introduced me to my husband. She attended my wedding. Laura taught me to analyze things and people, to debate effectively, to be strong, to go after what I want in life and that I could achieve my dreams. She gave me confidence. She taught me to believe in myself.

Kathy Tryon is such a beautiful influence. We had Spanish class together. We lived down the hall from each other. We were study buddies. She taught me you can be both serious and silly and that you can always put off laundry, as long as you have enough clothes. She's always positive. She's a friend forever and another for whom time stands still when we're apart.

We've gotten together a few times over the years. She was in my wedding. My husband videotaped hers. She was there for me when my mom was ill. My family and I drove down to San Diego to watch her husband run a marathon. Our kids are close in age. I wish we lived closer, but thank God for Facebook.

Kathy, Lora Gilliland and I had our own version of The Three Musketeers on our trips to Aggieville. Lora taught me that not all the cool kids suck. Some could be beautiful, fun, talented, smart, sensitive and kind all wrapped into one.

She and Kathy together taught me that college was more than classes and life is what you make of it. They showed me how to balance work and fun, to be bold, say what you think and reach for the brass ring.

Amy Culling was a friend of my husband first, but we became college roommates when she returned from Germany. We were kindred spirits from the start. We loved antiques, cooking, the same TV shows. Amy is a powerhouse of energy and ideas. An entrepreneur, a shoulder to cry on, a friend for life.

We live close enough to see each other once every three years or so, but it feels as if we've never been apart. She was my maid of honor. She taught me how to go with the flow no matter what life hands you.

There are others.

Kim Kirkham, for instance, taught me compassion, strength, sincerity and perseverance. She also taught me what it takes to be a good manager and how to walk the line between friendship and work. She was there for me when my mom died and even wrote her obituary for me. Kim gave me advice on my career and showed me how to be true to myself. Again, I wish we lived closer. I'd love for our boys to grow up together.

Linda Martinez is a woman who has taught me much. I don't think I would survive without her. She got me through the first months of motherhood, post-partum depression, my child's hospitalization and more than a few lapses of better judgment. She's watched my kids when I didn't have a babysitter. We've shared holidays, recipes and work. No one can appreciate my tendencies that border on OCD better than Linda. She's taught me how to grocery shop, remain organized despite the chaos and how to balance work and family and still get everything done. In some ways, she's my idol.

There's Maria Saint, who's taught me how to be selfless, gracious and thankful without being a pushover. Her friendship and the strength we shared with each other through the layoffs will never be forgotten. Her gentle spirit inspires me to be a better person. This woman is truly named.

Kim Lamb Gregory has taught me to laugh in the face of adversity. To always look on the bright side of life (pun intended). She's my mentor in many ways. I aspire to write with her depth of feeling and humor. She instinctively knows what to say when someone needs uplifting words. She's given me strength many days without even knowing it.

Last, but most definitely not least are my sisters of the soul, my friends and kindred spirits, Vicki Snyder and Maisha Elonai. If I could choose sisters, they would be at the top of my list. They're my partners in crime, my go-to gals, my lifelines. Though we don't have traveling pants to hold us together, we have cell phones and Facebook and holiday visits.

They've taught me so very much. Potential is never-ending, women are capable of anything, how to laugh, how to play, even how to breathe.

Mai and I shared online RPG games, a love of renaissance faires, poetry, literature, music, vampires, the beach and exercise. She was there with my husband and me when our first child was born. She kept me company when he fell asleep.

When Mai moved, I lost a little bit of myself. The friendship has remained strong even though it's been six years. I've made one trip to Philly and she comes here once or twice a year to visit her parents. We always try to steal a day to hang out. Thanks Mom and Dad Elonai for sharing your very, very special daughter. I love you, Mai.

Vicki and I shared motherhood, music, deep dark secrets, vampires (what's with the vampire thing?), literature, work, movies, music, recipes, ideas, philosophy and every corner of our lives. It helped that our husbands were best buds, too. Vicki gave me the ability to look at things objectively. She was honest, even when I didn't want to hear it.

When the Snyders moved, I lost another bit of myself. We still connect. Not as often as I would like, but a three-hour time difference is hard to manage with children. Whatever the intervals, though, I know she's there if I need her. I love you, Vicki.

So, this is my sisterhood. Every person here and many not mentioned, have made my life richer, truer and more beautiful.

Thank you!