season four episode one
on feeling homesick
and holding onto your anchors
photo courtesy of FASHION magazine
For a few of us lucky women-of-a-certain-age, we came of age during the era of a little show called Sex and the City. The foursome of Carrie, Justice-for-Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha weren’t perfect or flawless looking and made plenty of questionable choices. Whether we knew it or not at the time, so much of their fictional lives became a foundation for what we desired from our circle of girlfriends. Sure the show was a lot about sex, men, dating, finding love. But to me it was always about their bond; they were each others soulmates.
In Sicily, there is an ancient word to describe this kind of relationship between women: Cummari.
Over the generations, as no one really knows how old the term is, the word has come to mean many different things from Godmother to a bride’s maid of honor. But the same sentiment rings true: It is for the female bond, the friendships between women who have arrived in your life and chosen to stay with you through distance, disagreements, time, heartbreak, life, death.
For better or worse, in sickness and in health, it’s a silent vow that ties us together always… always.
Truthfully, I am doubley lucky because I have such friendships in my life. Not that I would consider myself in the “no-new-friends” category, but let’s be honest, my cup runneth over with the ones I have. They are my chosen sisters, my family. They are abundant, and so different from one another. All swirling around my life with traces of us overlapping just enough to be able to sympathize with each other in a language no one else can understand. They are treasures personified. My anchors when I feel like I’ve lost myself.
Moving to Europe reminded me of Carrie in Paris in season six. Lonely and looking longingly at a group of girlfriends having lunch and laughing together. I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t me from time to time. The creepy, albeit adorable, American watching Italian women and girls strutting together in the piazza. Each one perfectly dressed for themselves but nothing like the one standing next to them. Each one safe in the security of trusting the women on their left and right with every secret and memory. Every bad break-up and even worse hangover that followed.
When I first arrived here, I felt this pressure to make connections with other women. Should they be like me? Should they be expecting a child too? Should they already be moms? Other Americans? Italian? Would I be missing out if I didn’t lock in someone to be my female companion during this time here? Internal pressure we put on ourself is a funny thing, like where does all this dialogue come from? So what if I am separated from them, it doesn’t make them less present. It doesn’t make them less connected to the foundation of who I am, because just like any long term relationship, they have formed you over the years. The memories can’t be replaced, we’re melted together.
All that to say, there have been some exceedingly lonely moments missing a good gossip. A good girl chat. A good, “he did what??” moment. A deep, can’t catch my breath, belly laugh over something that no one else would understand but us. Writing helps, dancing in the kitchen to good music helps. Having a sexy husband who understands how to navigate my moods really helps. Podcasts like The Toast and The Ladygang even help. Distance can be a hurdle and time zones complicate connections. It takes a little extra work but it’s work worth giving because having people who choose to stay consistent in your life and in your heart are more valuable than the most precious of gems. Biology can’t even compete.
I wasn’t born with sisters, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t collected a few along the way…
Distance makes the heart grow fonder (bleh…… so gross, so cliche). Distance! Ohhh the distance I have added between myself and my tribe over the years. First with Baltimore, then Columbus, then Destin….then Italy. The distance has only left me feeling more bonded to the anchors I am tied to, because I chose them and they continue to choose me back. How lucky and bright a life can be, even in the darkest times of grief, of depression and loneliness, to have so much love survive.
You know who you are.
I’m better off with you.
DJ