Mother's Day and Old Friends

I woke up at the crack of dawn. No. Literally. Birds chirping, sun peaking through the leaves, the smell of another camper's fire. Crack of camping dawn.

I had driven 17 hours the previous day and finally passed out in a camp ground a few miles from the church house. My first order of business: Take a camp shower in the campground washrooms. Blissfully, they have running water and locking doors. I bathed up, pulled on a dress, and headed back to my car—in hiking boots. Oddly enough, I didn't figure my stilettos would hold up well walking through a camp ground.

A few hours later (after killing time at a coffee shop slowly snacking on a scone and sipping some nasty excuse for herbal tea) I entered the church building that I still consider my "home ward" (this time wearing my stilettos).

I walked in a bit early and looked around for people I recognized. There were a few. I'd venture to say I recognized far less than a quarter of the people there.

Then, in came a woman who will always be a part of my childhood memories—Diana.

Aside: Diana and my mother were the best of friends throughout my childhood. We children spent a ton of time together because of that relationship, but, it was genuinely a friendship and a sisterhood that was built around themselves. They loved each child, and made sure we felt their love (I know Diana loves me just as I love her), but, far more importantly, they loved and supported each other through all the rough things that life could throw. And, for Diana especially, life threw a lot. For that, I have a unique love for Diana. I see her as the woman who loved and cared for my mother when she needed it. And I see her as my mother sees her—Strong. Brave. Loving. and, most of all, Special. It's hard to describe, but she's a wonderful woman. And I guess that's all I can possibly say about her without this turning into (hopefully very premature) eulogy. 
 
I had found a seat at the back of the chapel, and when I saw Diana I immediately sprang to my feet and rushed to embrace her. We chatted briefly, and then her wonderful husband walked in. We hugged, and the three of us spent a minute catching up. Then, Diana said to me, "you're more than welcome to come sit with us." "I think I will do just that," I said, grabbing my scriptures and heading to the front of the chapel with them.

In the few minutes before the meeting started a few other old friends and youth leaders noticed me and came to give me hugs (and tell me how wonderful I look).

Two hours later, I was sitting in Relief Society (the women's Sunday School class) listening to an old youth leader conduct. After the meeting was finished she stood up and said, "I'm terribly sorry, I forgot to have the visitors introduce themselves." Then, she asked a few other visitors to introduce themselves before she turned to me and Diana (predictably, I was sitting with her) and said, "And, Diana? You have someone with you I don't believe I recognize." "You should!" Diana said. Then I stood and said, "I'm Granola Girl. For those of you who are now wondering why on earth a third of the room know recognizes me, this is the ward I grew up in." It was a warm moment. Lots of people asked about my parents (who had moved out a decade ago), and many asked about me and my siblings. It was a fun, brief moment of catching 30 people up on the goings on of the last 10 years.

Then, church was over, and I was back on my own devices for the new few days before the big race.