Mountain Women

When I moved back to DC, searching for a place to live, my made-in-heaven basement apartment turned into a disaster – I left after eight days, unshowered and in a panic, carrying three large suitcases, one heavy computer bag, two very large tote bags, and four boxes. Heavy-duty bag lady. A friend took half of the bags, and I schlepped the others to the Folger guesthouse, embarrassed but glad to be safe.
A mountain buddy sent me a text: “should I come to get you on Friday.” Since I had nowhere to go, I quickly sent back, “YES.” After a very long drive, actually 8 ½ hours of heavy traffic, three car crashes, and heavy rain, my buddy and her mother arrived to collect me and my baggage and return me to the mountains. We first went to Eastern market for a quick dinner and to wait out the traffic. Leaving at 7 PM, the traffic was very light, by the time we reached the mountains, we had the winding roads to ourselves. The scenery was magnificent, the conversation deeply satisfying. We arrived at 11:30 PM, all three of us very tired, but glad to be home. I held the door while they carried all my bags inside, looked around the house, rested for a while, then drove off to West Virginia.
I am in awe of these women and their magnificent generosity, envious of their intimacy, of their ease, and their comfort with each other… and even with me.