Dear Sandy,

Ugh.

The letter I can hardly even bring myself to type. I've been thinking of it for weeks, dreading it for weeks, and words fail me it makes me so sad to even start. Where do I begin? What can I say? I'll start at the beginning.

I met Sandy through email when she was thinking of moving to Colorado from Maryland. Having lived in Baltimore for 3 years, and loving Colorado, I was very encouraging to this lady who was contemplating picking her family up and moving across the country. This nice, Indian lady. (Remember it was email and with her last name and daughter's name, she must have been Indian, right? )

When I think back now to our first couple of exchanges, I'm a little astonished that we're even on speaking terms, let alone close friends. After I met her here in CO at a playgroup meeting, one of my first sentences to her was, "So, your husband didn't marry a nice, Indian girl?" (open mouth, insert foot). But Sandy didn't miss a beat, she opened up immediately about the difficulties of marrying someone of a completely different culture and was unfazed by my rude, rude comment.

The next time we met, another playgroup:
Me:"Do you ever cook Indian food at home?"
Sandy: "Yes, that's all I cook."
Me: "Oh, I love Indian food, you should have me over sometime!" (open mouth, insert foot)

Again, after this rude, rude comment you'd think she'd have given me the stink-eye and moved on. But no. A day or two later I actually got a dinner invitation-- (I think it's probably a bad idea to reward someone's rudeness with a yummy Indian dinner, but I can't argue at this point.)

And I think that this weird initial exchange, this unlikely way to become friends just plainly epitomizes the entire rest of our relationship. It's just easy. Since meeting, we've never fought, held grudges, said things that were taken the wrong way, or had to navigate any of our words or deeds toward each other. We are just friends. It is easy and simple and plain. Without headache or heartache or jealousy. No second-guessing or manipulating (aside from the small guilt trips to make someone come out to go dancing), or bad feelings. I can be flaky and stir controversy and Sandy doesn't care. She can be competitive and hard-headed (yes, you can!) and I don't care.

Since meeting through this playgroup 6 years ago, we've done a lot together and hardly gone through a day without calling each other... typically 4-12 times a day. 5ks and triathlons, skiing, and swimming. Playgroup, preschool, elementary school. Trips to the zoo, the mall playarea, the North Pole, street festivals, balloon festivals, parks, pools, and countless hours at each other's houses. Girls' nights, girls' weekends, wine in the morning, wine in the afternoon, and wine at night, pizza with friends, Ginger's Hotter, and one scrapbooking sleepover. We've done it all.

My heart is heavy thinking of dog-earing this time in my life. If someone told me that my life hiccupped and I had to re-do the last 6 years, I would do it all over again with no changes, no regrets. It's been great.

I'll miss you so much, you are my favorite friend. This is so hard.

But I'd better see your ass in Deutschland at least once, and you better invite me to the next girls' weekend in Vegas, and you can wear out my MagicJack, and in a few years we'll be back in the U.S. and but a flight away. Unless, of course, you decide that I pick nice places to live and you follow me to North Carolina.

Dear Sandy, you are so loved. You will be so missed.
I think I'll just download the Ginger's Hotter playlist to my ipod, and I'm pretty sure you'll be right back with me again if I close my eyes and dance.

I love you,
Katy