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Amanda Fox Gibbons

The missing peace

Updated: Aug 28, 2022


I will never forget meeting you. Our boyfriends' matching grey trucks pulling up alongside one another on the ranch road. The backdrop of our introduction was more spectacular than any view I'd ever seen. Sunsetting golden hues on the Palisades. The Rio Grande churning along below. Green sage and white tipped mountains surrounding us. Two cowboy hats leaned back in their seats as you and I leaned forward to introduce ourselves. The sun was shining through your dark hair as you smiled at me. You were my sister that I had yet to meet. I smiled back. Instant recognition.



Our lives were once intricately intertwined. Our boyfriends were brothers and we joked that we married them so we would officially be sisters. A beautiful patchwork of pictures run through my mind remembering the past and all of the time we had spent together. Our weddings, our initiations into motherhood, finding our way along the road of life. Raising babies, taking walks, sharing meals and ideas and small town life. Holding one another up throughout the unfolding of our lives. We were the best of friends and even better, we were family.



But a few years ago, we had a giant upheaval in our deep friendship of sisters. Words of hurt were spoken. The pain of my broken pieces blinded my eyes and I swirled in fear and confusion, reacting from the ancient trauma I silently carried. I didn't know how to communicate any of this. I couldn't comprehend what had gone wrong between us. It was as if my world turned upside and shook me as hard as it could. I shut down and our lives shifted directions. My family moved 1000 miles north and yours went 1000 miles east and the friendship of my lifetime was stretched so thin I couldn't feel it.




 



We hadn't spoken in a few years. My life had plunged into survival mode as my health went down the drain. Fully immersed in healing and finding my footing, I had finally healed all of the pieces of my life. Except one. You.



This weekend that all changed. It was the 4th of July and quite a few of our husbands' siblings were gathering to celebrate at our father-in-law's home in Wyoming. Cousins and kittens and fireworks were going to be there and so were you. I was counting down the days.



Pulling up to the house my heart was beating in delightful anticipation. I walked in the door and there you were, smiling at me. Our eyes were sparkling as we beamed at each other. We hugged and hugged and hugged. I said hello to everyone and then there we were talking in the kitchen. Just like always. But this time catching up on years of life we had yet to share. My feet got tired from standing for so long so we went to sit in the living room. We disappeared into conversation as the whole world quietly vanished around us.



It was magic.



On one of our Wyoming mornings I woke up knowing what I needed to say. The words had finally found themselves as my inner workings had become clear to me. I looked at you in the kitchen, mugs of coffee in our hands, and apologized. I apologized for how I hurt you in the past. For what I said. How I wish I would've handled things better. For not knowing how. You apologized for what you had said long ago. Explaining with clarity your inner workings back then. Forgiveness flowed through our veins. We didn't cry, just smiled and hugged one another tightly as everything we had been carrying around dissolved into thin air.



Invisible on the outside.



Paramount on the inside.



I love you. Oh my goodness I have missed you.



The rest of our time in Wyoming was a buzz of beauty. Our big giant family did what we do. Floated the river with music and conversations. Rode horses and dressed up to go to the rodeo. Our husbands worked on the farm equipment. We made meals with our sisters and watched as our kids made memories with their cousins. Swimming in the hot springs, sharing snacks and and sunscreen. The familiar smell of sulphur rounded out the whole experience for me. For how many times had we packed up our kiddos to swim at the ranch hot springs? It was as if time had no timeline and all of the pieces had found their places once more.



Our last night there, we walked down to the river just me and you. Taking pictures and talking about dreams of the future, families, ideas. Our short walk spontaneously turned into a much longer walk as we headed down the gravel road. We just couldn't resist. It was what we had always done and it felt like old times, only better.



No one was looking for us. I am sure they knew where we were.



The sun had set as we turned back towards the house and the sky was full of fireworks in the distance. We joined everyone for swing dancing and laughter and the best country music soundtrack of all time. We sat together squished in with your family, shoulder to shoulder as the music played. The night grew dark and the moon set on the horizon. And we listened as our family shared stories and songs. Your daughter snuggled up on our laps and eventually fell asleep as I played with her hair. It all felt so familiar yet sparkling new in the same gentle whisper of time. I'll call it soul balm.



It was the exact medicine I was seeking. This trip to Wyoming. The music, the hugs, our big beautiful family. The opportunity to find the necessary words to fully mend our friendship.



Our reconnection: the missing piece of my peace.



I am grateful.




I was sitting in the sun Talking with my sister And watching my nephew who was delighted to play ball The hum of happiness filled the house My big beautiful family gathered together A reunion of reunions Somewhat spontaneous and just the medicine I needed My heart soared and I couldn’t stop smiling And as I gazed at the sky these words slipped right out “It doesn’t get any better than this!” I said And smiled even bigger I know you were with us, Great Grandpa Terrill Thank you for this family










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