The friends we keep.

We stumbled up the steps on my East Coast Nurse Friends’ boyfriends’ place for a potluck dinner. I had just finished my third heaping of authentic Linguine Alfredo made by one of the transients during in my seven month stint living in Golden, BC. I was wine drunk and it was the first and last time I ever tried pot cookies. I remember snuggling up next to my Nurse Friend (obviously the cookies kicked in) and lovingly petting her fabulously red hair thinking how awesome my freakin’ life was. It was a Tuesday night for Christ sake. Routinely, my Saturdays were spent cross country skiing, my Sundays dedicated boarding, between sipping cesars on the hill, courtesy of  free lift tickets (the bonus of dating a ski bum for a season) and I was getting regularly wine drunk with my two Nurse Friend besties. If that isn’t happiness, I’m not sure what is. 

I have left my heart in so many places: I’ve created friendships’ all over the world, and those two girls are one of the many examples. Without hesitation, I can tell you that family has nothing to do with blood and more with the people we choose, the friends we keep. I love my sisters and my spit-fire soul wouldn’t be nearly as bold, not to mention I would most likely still be in Cambodia sans passport, had I not have those two, and my Mom, in my life. For better or for worst, I’ll stand behind them in whatever life choice they make and they’d do the same. And we fight hard, too. But I also know that I would fight for and hide bodies with specific people who I’ve met by chance rather than by relation. Let’s just face it, you can’t volunteer in the Jungle together for eight weeks (and meet on three different continents) and not consider them one of your people. You meet your family in the strangest of ways – and many of my girls seem to be working at one particular male dominated organization. You soul tends to come back to those who make you feel most at home and it seems my soul is happiest with those girls who I found through Collective Agreement meetings, proximity of offices and by job sharing. And then there’s those people you always make time for and they’re always able to plan around your schedule (and re-plan when you change your plans. Again), during your quick and dirty trips back to Calgary, back to those enjoyable parts of your old life.

I also finally understand that friendships aren’t always 50/50, and sometimes the effort shifts at different duration of the relationship because, hey, life happens and priorities are ever changing. I have only very recently learned that sometimes those close friendships need to come to an end, which is hard to admit and even more difficult allow to happen. It’s some kind of karma that, for me, heartache has never been more real than it has realizing when my close girlfriend isn’t really invested in my life anymore.  As on friend admitted, nothing is more shocking than realizing a good friend was actually kind of a crappy friend. 

But then your mutual friend force-friends you with one of her friends, or the Hunter introduces you to his people and it’s you once again realize that there’s no shortage of love in your life, because after all, regardless of where you live, once a Bushbabe always a Bushbabe.

So, I guess this is my breakup post - It’s for those select friends who are slowly becoming acquaintances that I’ve been thinking about allot lately. I’m left with those stores about the good ol’ wine infused days on Kicking Horse Mountain, when those memories come flooding back whene I come across Copper Moon Wine as I’m searching for a BC Bottle to take to a dinner to create those new memories.

Truthfully,

Kirstin

Find your people and love them hard.