Some days, I just wish I could jump into a time machine and go back to my younger life. Times when I knew those to trust and those to avoid. Times when right and wrong were a little bit more black and white, at least in my experience. Times when I knew the dentist that would be fixing my teeth and the doctor would be giving medical advice tailored for me because we had a 25 year friendship. Those days when everything wasn’t new and strange.
Earlier in the week, I went to my new eye doctor. Such a great guy, he fixed me up in fine order with contacts and eyeglasses. The best part is the proximity to Winterpast. Just around the corner. Next Monday, I’ll try out a new dentist, and the week after that, it’ll be time to try out a new doctor. Everything unknown. Everyone untried. I’n pretty sure they’ll have medical agendas that do not line up with my personal preferences. If that becomes the case, I’ll keep looking until I find the medical minimalists that fit my personal beliefs and medical needs. The search and unknown are what I find exhausting.
I’m on this island of new. Everything around me is untested and mysterious, as I find myself in the high desert all alone. I’m starting to accept that this is not something easy or convenient, but damn hard. A lonely journey that will take time, as I find my way.
Last night, Miss Firecracker and I found another “new” in the vast acres of sand and tumbleweeds. We found “Five Ladies On A Stump Steakhouse”. With reservations at 4, Miss Firecracker drove us East, as we passed the time chatting, as we always do. She knows right away what questions to ask, because I wear my worries like laundry on a clothesline. Very apparent.
By the time we got to the restaurant, we had covered so many topics. The waitresses were waiting for us, as we had reservations and we entered. The first thing that was so adorable about the place was a wall of hanging cowboy hats. Straw and all the same, they acted as a room divider, hanging in long strings, tied brim to brim. Cost effective and appropriate for the clientele. This is in the heart of Nevada Cattle Country, with two major feed lots on either side of time.
The next big surprise was on us when we opened the menu. Now, this was something. The menus were back lit. Heavy, like my iPad and cover, when opened, the paper menus had been inserted between the cover and glass. The lighting from behind made the paper glow and instantly easy to read. We both giggled with delight, opening and closing our menus. Never have I ever!
From the starched linens to the sparkling water glasses, this place was the nicest restaurant I have been to in some time. The waitress pampered us as we continued our conversations and laughter.
I couldn’t help to notice the three-some that came in to dine. The men were very clean, wearing bibbed-overalls. Not new bibbed-overalls. The kind that had been dealing with cows and calves the day before, but luckily, had found their way through a cycle in the washing machine. Only here, in the high desert, would this happen in an upscale steak house. I so love where I live.
When I moved to Fernley, I knew one couple. Miss Firecracker and her sweet husband, Baily’s and Cream. We’d met years before, immediately developing a friendship of the sweetest kind. It’s rare that two couples blend into four people that really like one another, but such was the case. We’ve dressed up and attended fancy balls together, and sat under star-lit skies by the campfire, laughing until we cried. We’ve discussed about every subject possible, from electrical engineering to psychological issues, with never enough time to tire from the delightful company.
VST and Baily’s and Cream needed to leave this world a little before us women-folk, their “forevers” being shorter than ours. Abruptly they said their Goodbye’s and left with barely a sound, either one. They left us with gaping mouths and tear-streamed faces wondering where the other half of went. Miss Firecracker and I knew these two guys well, and we loved them both. Together, she and I have found comfort in easy discussions about these extraordinary men with human problems and shortcomings. We discuss those things privately, because we have the right as their widows and friends.
Through the months of Covid, Miss Firecracker and I have supported each other through some dark days. She has always been my go-to Girlfriend for a friendly dinner at the Tee-Pee Diner. Always been the voice I could trust, because between us, there is only truth. Even when it is tough to hear.
I spent my first widowed holidays with Miss Firecracker. She brought me an ace bandage when I sprained my ankle around Christmas, along with a darling stuffed Santa to lay on the empty pillow next to mine. Her laughter and bright attitude has been there on days when my heart was still bruised, but healing. She is brave, and has been an example of Grace Under Fire. Such good examples for me to reflect upon, on days when I want to put my cart before my horse.
She is the one that showed me the mustang on the mountain just outside of our town. Just an image on the mountain, it is surely a mustang that I see every time I drive East. I will always think of the fun day we shared when she first showed it to me. She is the one that told me this little town had been a fine choice for her home. So right she was, as I grow my roots into the fertile soil of Winterpast.
Now, Miss Firecracker needs to move on in life and out of our little town. To say my heart is breaking sounds melodramatic, but, it is. It will be forever and a day before I meet someone like her that stole my heart at her first “Hello”. I don’t know how I can ever say “Goodbye” when the day comes that she needs to drive West, but, life is that way. There is a time and place for everything. How well I’ve learned that lesson.
Ooze-ing Goodbye’s aren’t something I’m good at. I would rather cruise down main street with a smile, then end up in a heap of tears. So, we’ll be stoic women, the two of us, promising to talk often and laugh loudly at all the adventures that await us.
Her Goodbye reminds me that while Winterpast is my cocoon right now, one day the time will arrive when age will win, and it will be my time to leave. Until then, I have so much gardening to do while reflecting on the great life that the high desert has provided me.
There’ll never be as sweet or funny a campfire as the one in which we all played “Head Bandz” and Miss Firecracker’s chair slowly went over. Or the stories she shared about her Red Hat girlfriends and their escapades. She knows, very well, my favorite story. I will leave it for her to share if you are lucky enough to meet her someday. Just look for the trim and zesty woman with the most sparkly eyes. Ask her about THE story. It’s the best.
Love dearly those friends you hold close. Call them often. Share coffee and stories while enjoying friendship’s special gifts. You never know when a day may come in which they aren’t there to laugh or cry or hold you close. Girlfriends are gifts from God. Cherish them.
I love you to the moon and back, Miss Firecracker.
Don’t get me started with the waterworks, Girlfriend.