Old Friends

One of my dear friends who moved to Arizona over 15 years ago came to Philly last week to visit her mom. This led to a gathering at my house of four girlfriends who go way back, three spouses, and one  delicious Chinese food meal.

Two of these girlfriends are grandmas and two have engaged kids, so that right there is a lot to talk about, although we’ve never run out of subject matter, e v e r.  

We all congratulated the girlfriends on the engagements and began to talk about potential wedding plans for their kids but, before long, the conversation shifted to when WE were kids and got married. Can old friends ever get together and NOT talk about the old days?  I hope not!

In the midst of all the chatter, one of the girlfriends had a flashback of another friend (not in attendance) who was a bridesmaid in one of our weddings and transformed discarded fabric from the alterations process to wear as a ribbon in her hair – a very ingenious plan, we all agreed then – and now.

She also had a vague recollection of a lavender color for the dress and matching ribbon, and although these memories of hers sounded familiar, my thinking about them was foggy. We also haven’t seen ribbon girl in decades, so there hasn’t been any reminiscing with her or about this for a very long time.

Flashback girlfriend was pretty sure that ribbon girl made her stylish mark at MY wedding – my first wedding – but another of the dinner girlfriends didn’t think that was the case, wondering if ribbon girl and I weren’t friends during that time period.

It was up to me to break the tie, but I couldn’t. Was ribbon girl in my wedding, or someone else’s? Did my bridesmaids wear pink, lavender, or a different color?

I have tons of pictures with all these girls although not many of us at our weddings...but, then again, we didn't have smart phones some 45 years ago to snap a picture quickly, just disposable cameras at the tables.    

So how would we ever figure out the answers to these pressing questions? Then it dawned on me…there was a way we could know for sure.

I turned to David and asked if he’d be OK if I took out my OLD wedding album. As I expected, he said he didn’t care.

The men seemed shocked that I still had it, but the women got it. It is too important in the history of my life and my kids’ lives to dispose of this album just because the marriage didn’t work out. One day, my kids may appreciate seeing their parents so young, at their own wedding, with grandparents, a great grandmother, aunts and uncles, and lots of friends. But if not – and they don’t want it, because everyone says our kids don’t want our things – they can toss it.  

After flipping a couple pages, I had my answers.  

Ribbon girl WAS in my wedding!

And all the bridesmaids – other than my sister, who was my maid of honor – wore a lovely dusty rose/mauve gown.    

Dinner with my girlfriends was one of the highlights of my summer so far, and it reminded me of this  quote: “You can’t make old friends.”

Maine!

I am so lucky that, many moons ago, David’s kids went to camp in Maine.

On the night before or after visiting day, or both, he’d stop at a lobster pound and devour an enormous lobster that he would tell me about later – the fun, gluttony and luscious nature of it made my mouth water – and that, coupled with his description of the beauty of Maine sealed the deal: one day, he and I would experience it together.   

Some 15 years ago, we began our Maine summer tradition, starting at Bar Harbor, where we thoroughly enjoyed Acadia National Park and the surrounding areas, as well as the charming Ogunquit, with its scenic Marginal Way and Perkins Cove. These locations left us wanting to explore more coastal towns and since Matthew, David’s son, had taken a camp trip to Boothbay Harbor and liked it so much, we decided to go there next.   

It was love at first sight for me, both exciting and immediately comforting, like an old pair of jeans, or a familiar smell that made me relax at once. Since then, the more I go to Boothbay Harbor, the more I want to go, and the more at home I feel.

For the past decade, our Maine jaunts have been divided between Boothbay Harbor and Camden, a picturesque town on the water, but once the innkeeper we knew and loved sold her B&B and two of our favorite eateries closed (including a fantastic lobster pound), we haven’t had the same desire to return.

After we were vaccinated this past winter, we felt encouraged to go somewhere we had sorely missed. We made our reservation for Boothbay Harbor only and I, for one, could not wait.

We were met in Portland after landing last week by a monsoon (thanks Elsa) and chilly temperatures (60s), but we did not care. We drove directly to our number one lobster spot called Boothbay Lobster Wharf, a working lobster dock where you can dine and watch local fishermen unload their catch. It takes some 25 minutes from ordering the whole steamed lobster to diving into it so, as I waited, I looked over the tie-dyed sweatshirts, picked one out and put it on immediately, not only to warm up but to help me remember that moment forever.

Once the lobsters were ready, I was so happy to savor each bite, made even sweeter as I marveled over the grit involved in keeping the lobster industry alive. It has taken massive efforts in every direction to maintain the livelihoods of lobster fishermen due to the challenges of climate variability and change, crippling tariffs, and other factors impacting every aspect of the business, and this was all before COVID created severe upheaval and closures.  

When we arrived at our B&B, everything looked status quo – especially with check-in time corresponding with low-tide and muddy flats as compared with the beautiful site of water during high tide. The proprietor welcomed us back with a nice big smile and then shared with us that the shortage of help has handicapped businesses throughout the town.  

Later that evening, when the rain let up a bit, I took a walk on the Boothbay Foot Bridge, the singular best place in all of Boothbay Harbor. This is a 1,000-foot wooden structure that connects one side of the harbor to the other, built originally in 1901 by Luther Maddocks for $1,500, with many renovations and repairs since. The views to and from this bridge are stunning, day and night, and feeling that harbor breeze as if we are walking on the water itself is just heavenly.   

As I look back at all the years we’ve spent in Maine, what comes to mind is not what we’ve done there, but how we feel there.