(Written for class, Memoir Writing Workshop, 12-15-2002)
It was the middle of the night. It was also the first time in all my travels that Lisa or Sue had not met me at the airport. I was 21, no longer a schoolgirl, and they were busy with their own lives; Lisa, married in Kansas; Sue, working in Ft. Collins. It had been nearly six months since I had seen either of them.
I was on my way home. Home was Morrill County, Nebraska where we had all grown up. Home was a ranch in the sandhills. Home was the pivot point of our lives. The place where all our memories were kept.
I had taken a late night flight from Atlanta to Denver, then caught a bus to Cheyenne. The bus broke down 50 miles out of Denver. There would be a two-hour delay. I needed to get to Cheyenne.
One a.m., one call, and Sue was there, in bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. She drove me the 60 miles to my destination. The hour together was not nearly enough time. So much to catch up on; my travels, her job, her love life, my love life, our families, my plans, had she seen Lisa?
Lisa, Sue and Donna, I was the baby. Lisa and Sue were three years older, not much difference now, but when we were 17 and 14, it was incredible that we were best friends. Remarkable in many ways, Sue was an only child; she transferred to our school from an all girl's boarding school. Lisa was part of the popular clique, Sue was of the independent set and I was … well, I was still in Jr. High.
Lisa and Sue were sophomores and they became best of friends. Amazing that they let me in, I was just a kid and besides that, I was Lisa's little sister. I guess I was part of a package deal.
Three ranch girls, we were country when country wasn’t cool. We waited out the long school year, being proper schoolgirls. Going to classes, club meetings, sporting events, containing our rural ways the best we could. We lived for spring to arrive, and reveled in the summer. Oh, summer!
We worked for our respective fathers in the hay field, checked windmills, irrigated, gardened, cooked, did the 4-H thing, rode horses, and went to fairs and rodeos and dances. How we loved to dance!, country western dancing at rodeos, town halls, weddings, any occasion.
We spent Sunday mornings dancing with one another and my little brother, showing the others the new steps we learned. We danced, we discusussed, we dissected, we laughed; things that weren't even remotely humorous to others were hilarious to us.
Lisa and Sue went off to college in Kansas and Colorado. So we wrote letters, hundreds of letters to keep in touch. I knew their daily lives and they knew mine. Mostly, we planned for summer. Every letter mentioned holding out till spring. Those letters, now safe in a cedar chest, are a chronicle of dreams and the reality of our youth.
Each alone we were vulnerable; united, we were invincible. We could handle anything. Together we weathered the storms of adolescent love and later real love.
Lisa met Steve in college and married a year after she graduated. Her wedding was in late summer. The three of us had gone in different directions after high school, we were independent, yet we were together.
That August day definitely marked the end of Lisa/Sue/Donna. While Lisa honeymooned, Sue and I went to the Wyoming State Fair, we were like a ship without a rudder.
Sue went back to Colorado, Lisa and Steve to Kansas, and I kept traveling. Sue met Kevin in Colorado and they came back to Morrill County to work Sue's family ranch.
I stopped wandering when I met Gary and settled in central Nebraska. Lisa, Sue and I have each married only once and stayed happily married; a testament to our enduring friendship. We learned from one another what it took to make a relationship work and we applied it to our marriages.
We have had other friends, friends from every path we’ve been down. Many we shared with one another, some we kept to ourselves.
I have had good friends, true friends. But none can compare with the bond I have with Lisa and Sue. Whatever it was that made us friends, it has endured. It is a part of our lives, constant, taken for granted, like breathing.
I never could have grown up without Lisa and Sue. There is security in knowing that if the whole world fell apart, we will be there for one another. Lisa and I, we’re stuck with each other, but we chose to be friends. Then we chose Sue.
Long ago Sue wrote a letter with the familiar salutation, “Dear Lisa/Donna, I have picked the people I want to grow old with... You two win!”
Time, distance and the direction of our lives have separated us, except for in our hearts, where it’s always summertime.
It was the middle of the night. It was also the first time in all my travels that Lisa or Sue had not met me at the airport. I was 21, no longer a schoolgirl, and they were busy with their own lives; Lisa, married in Kansas; Sue, working in Ft. Collins. It had been nearly six months since I had seen either of them.
I was on my way home. Home was Morrill County, Nebraska where we had all grown up. Home was a ranch in the sandhills. Home was the pivot point of our lives. The place where all our memories were kept.
I had taken a late night flight from Atlanta to Denver, then caught a bus to Cheyenne. The bus broke down 50 miles out of Denver. There would be a two-hour delay. I needed to get to Cheyenne.
One a.m., one call, and Sue was there, in bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. She drove me the 60 miles to my destination. The hour together was not nearly enough time. So much to catch up on; my travels, her job, her love life, my love life, our families, my plans, had she seen Lisa?
Lisa, Sue and Donna, I was the baby. Lisa and Sue were three years older, not much difference now, but when we were 17 and 14, it was incredible that we were best friends. Remarkable in many ways, Sue was an only child; she transferred to our school from an all girl's boarding school. Lisa was part of the popular clique, Sue was of the independent set and I was … well, I was still in Jr. High.
Lisa and Sue were sophomores and they became best of friends. Amazing that they let me in, I was just a kid and besides that, I was Lisa's little sister. I guess I was part of a package deal.
Three ranch girls, we were country when country wasn’t cool. We waited out the long school year, being proper schoolgirls. Going to classes, club meetings, sporting events, containing our rural ways the best we could. We lived for spring to arrive, and reveled in the summer. Oh, summer!
We worked for our respective fathers in the hay field, checked windmills, irrigated, gardened, cooked, did the 4-H thing, rode horses, and went to fairs and rodeos and dances. How we loved to dance!, country western dancing at rodeos, town halls, weddings, any occasion.
We spent Sunday mornings dancing with one another and my little brother, showing the others the new steps we learned. We danced, we discusussed, we dissected, we laughed; things that weren't even remotely humorous to others were hilarious to us.
Lisa and Sue went off to college in Kansas and Colorado. So we wrote letters, hundreds of letters to keep in touch. I knew their daily lives and they knew mine. Mostly, we planned for summer. Every letter mentioned holding out till spring. Those letters, now safe in a cedar chest, are a chronicle of dreams and the reality of our youth.
Each alone we were vulnerable; united, we were invincible. We could handle anything. Together we weathered the storms of adolescent love and later real love.
Lisa met Steve in college and married a year after she graduated. Her wedding was in late summer. The three of us had gone in different directions after high school, we were independent, yet we were together.
That August day definitely marked the end of Lisa/Sue/Donna. While Lisa honeymooned, Sue and I went to the Wyoming State Fair, we were like a ship without a rudder.
Sue went back to Colorado, Lisa and Steve to Kansas, and I kept traveling. Sue met Kevin in Colorado and they came back to Morrill County to work Sue's family ranch.
I stopped wandering when I met Gary and settled in central Nebraska. Lisa, Sue and I have each married only once and stayed happily married; a testament to our enduring friendship. We learned from one another what it took to make a relationship work and we applied it to our marriages.
We have had other friends, friends from every path we’ve been down. Many we shared with one another, some we kept to ourselves.
I have had good friends, true friends. But none can compare with the bond I have with Lisa and Sue. Whatever it was that made us friends, it has endured. It is a part of our lives, constant, taken for granted, like breathing.
I never could have grown up without Lisa and Sue. There is security in knowing that if the whole world fell apart, we will be there for one another. Lisa and I, we’re stuck with each other, but we chose to be friends. Then we chose Sue.
Long ago Sue wrote a letter with the familiar salutation, “Dear Lisa/Donna, I have picked the people I want to grow old with... You two win!”
Time, distance and the direction of our lives have separated us, except for in our hearts, where it’s always summertime.
