More Than One Fashionista in the House

Dear Tigger,

Someone mentioned today that I should start shopping for my fall/winter wardrobe. A bit of a stretch in this heat, but I instantly thought of you and that pretentious swagger of yours in the kitchen this morning showcasing the season's hottest new fashions in animal print.

You look adorable in this leopard scarf! Where, please tell, did you get it? Does it come in zebra stripe as well?

I can always count on you to lead the way in fashion.

Love,
Mommy

Blonde Chicks Unite

Dear Lin,

Thank you so very much for hosting our 25th friendship anniversary this weekend in Richmond.

I knew the minute we met at the Del Coronado in the summer of 1985 that you were my kind of gal. Maybe it was your stylish and very expensive jewelry. Maybe it was the quick wit and giggle that hinted at something you might not want to tell your mother. Maybe it was our kindred love for organ transplantation. Maybe it was because the stars knew they needed two mortals who could collectively keep the economy afloat with their shopping habits.

Who knows? But, the dearest of friends we have been through four cities (me), ten lovers (me), six careers (me), one husband (you) and grandparenting (you). I hate to say there's a trend here but one of us has to go out into the world and make a mess.

You are THE Queen of Self-Help and the only woman I know who actually lives, breathes, and believes in the Power of Now. You taught me to meditate, to use silver every day, and how to order tortillas online. Your cooking is legendary and everytime I see a recipe with more than 10 ingredients, I think of you.

I'm sure our paychecks would be retroactively cancelled if anyone knew the hours we spent talking on the phone while on the clock. And so it was fitting, that despite our weekend plans to go to the movies, visit the new wing at the museum, and workout at the gym, what we actually accomplished was melting the hours away in rich conversations over very good wine. And I mean hours.

Thank you for showing me the value of being a blonde and the beauty of being a woman. Your friendship is one of life's greatest gifts.

Love,
Gwen

Is There Beaching in Heaven?

Dear Susan,

We missed you at the beach today. Lisa, Amy, Milly, Greg, John . . . we were all there baking in the sun on South Carolina's gorgeous coast. You always said you preferred "beaching" in the Carolinas over Cape Cod. I agree.

We got together tonight and re-read some of your letters and it's a consensus. You were the hub that kept us together for so many years. You were the one who made sure no one was left behind even though we went our separate ways -- to Atlanta, Columbus, Lansing, New Orleans, Washington, DC, and Houston -- after college.

No one really believes you are gone.

No one wants to believe you were taken from us when you were only 39 and your beautiful daughter was was barely learning to walk. It was the happiest time in your life. We can still hear you planning the details of our next holiday gathering in Lexington or trip to the beach. We can still hear your laugh.

Do they have beaching in heaven? I hope so. I know you would like that.

Love,
Gwen

California Dreamin'

Dear Tom,

Hard to imagine I'm once again between jobs but that's where I find myself in these dog days of summer. Yesterday I applied to a great position in Menlo Park, CA with a medical device company that treats sinus infections (which can be worse than heart disease at times) and I thought, " . . . now who in the heck do I know in California?"

And you came to mind.

Didn't we meet in Nashville in 1988 at a medical conference on a bus trip to an all night dance-athon? Or was it the closing cocktail party? Anyway, it was the summer of FUN. I had never met a bonafide California guy who knew how to surf and lived in wine country. We had a blast touring Sedona, Sonoma and Slide Rock State Park (before the helmet requirement, thank goodness).

Last I heard (circa 1990) you were applying to grad school at Berkley and considering the Peace Corps once you finished a gig selling physical therapy equipment. I can't recall if you still live in San Francisco, made it to med school . . . heck, I can't even recall your last name, but it was a great, memorable, summer.

Gotta run. I'm starting to blush . . .

Love,
Gwen

My First Big Sis

Dear Donna,

I have about three digital gadgits reminding me it's your birthday this week. How could I forget? It always falls during the hottest part of the summer and so many we spent in Atlanta drinking wine at your condo, eating pizza at Jaegar's in Lullwater park or rummaging the sale racks at Lenox Square to catch an end-of-season bargain.

You were my very first Big Sis long before I even knew I needed one.

Our work in organ and tissue donation brought us together in 1983 and just about anything we needed to sort through we did so while on booth duty at a nursing conference or hospital wellness event. You always had a sound piece of advice or witty saying and that drawwwwlllll of yours is as familiar as your laugh.

With 9 grandchildren (or 10? 11?) we no longer have time for mindless shopping sprees and late night marathon visits with Cheetos and wine. But your cards and calls have never stopped and neither has your endearing friendship and good advice.

Happy Birthday, Big Sis.

Love, Gwen