I must caution my dear readers of two things... first, this will be a very long entry, so grab your "bevvy of choice" and settle in. And second, I fully intend to go for heartfelt emotion here... so while you are up getting your drink, consider how emotional you are feeling... if you are feeling at all tender, you might want to grab a kleenex or two as well.
Now, where to start... ah yes... lets "set the stage" a bit:
When I was in my early twenties, I decided the life of a career waitress wasn't proving to be anywhere near as appealing as it had been a few years before. For some reason, during this, my third year of slinging hash at the "Copper Grill" in Port Elgin, I kept getting a mental image of myself at fifty, with vericose veins (my sister Debbie called them "very close" veins when she was little), flat feet and a world-weary attitude.
Now I must say, I had risen to near the pinnacle of the profession - I was, after all, acting Assistant Manager. It was clear to everyone that I was a go getter, and would eventually attain the coveted position of Manager. I had friends, a boy-friend, and active social life... but, honestly - my heart wasn't in it. After all, I'd always been a creative, artistic type... writing, drawing, acting. Serving the perfect "eggs-over with white toast" combo complete with unlimited refills just didn't nurture my creative soul... and I somehow knew my life was destined for a change.
At about this same time, the man I was dating did something really, really stupid (shocking, I know) and ended our relationship in a BIG way. This was a very traumatic and troubling period of my life, and very hard to get through, but ironically, this very bad breakup was apparently just the catalyst I needed to start looking at life in a wider way. After taking stock of my talents, and with the encouragement and support of my parents and siblings, I sent off a set of pencil drawings and a hastily completed application form to the Illustration program at Sheridan College in Brampton.
Looking back, I marvel that I got a response at all... I believe it is typical to send out 3 or 4 applications to different schools... I only sent one application to one college... fully believing that I would never hear from them. So you can imagine my absolute astonishment when I got a letter from them a few weeks later telling me I'd been accepted to the program! It was the only time in my life (to this day) that I screamed out loud in shock! I was over the moon... and within a few months, I was off to college.
I arrived on campus early in September and in my very first class, I met two of my chicks. During our first "smoke" break, I met two more... and within the first week I'd met them all. And they were remarkable!
Debra - at once demure and child-like... she was blonde and fair, so beautiful and so incredibly gifted - but also very shy and somehow aloof;
Corrie - an impertinent and outspoken slip of a girl with a loose and gestural artistic style, unruly dark brown curls and an infectious, ready laugh;
Dawn - tiny, serious, committed and earthy - she had a deep connection to nature and an inate sense of design I covet to this day;
And Kim - whom I've described before as bohemian-chic... with a whimsical artistic style, Kim was (and is) a great conversationalist who loved to debate any subject but who was also homespun, sensible and funny.
And from that first week of school, the seeds of what have been lifelong friendships were sown.
Now, our sisterhood didn't actually start to achieve its current "state of being" until after we'd all graduated from college. But it was during our three years at Sheridan that we grew to know each other very well. We spent countless sleepless nights engaged in long phone calls while labouring over marker rendering projects that were due the next day... high on marker fumes, jittery from coffee... and exhilerated beyond belief with the sheer joy of being part of this very difficult, well respected program.
As the years went on, we would gather in groups of 2, 3 or 4 at one basement apartment or another to brainstorm projects, share ideas & resources and offer each other moral support. We cheered each other on and talked each other off the ledge on a daily basis. And we drank copious quantities of really cheap beer (all we could afford), ate way too many really bad cafeteria muffins (all they served) and grew into ourselves as artists and as women each and every day.
And after our three exceptional years at Sheridan were over, the six of us kept in touch - first by phone, later by e-mail. And what began as the usual "long-distance" college friendships slowly began to evolve into something more. I forget who suggested our first "group get together"... but I do seem to remember Dawn being the one who coined the phrase "chick party". And although I had never before - or since - allowed anyone to call me a "chick" (I was a child of the women's liberation movement after all... it just wasn't done), somehow the name fit... and stuck!
Soon, we were having "chick parties" twice a year, then three times... and in some years - even four. We got together religiously, and each time we did - our friendships deepened. It was all about great food, good wine and lots of laughter! We were there for each other as boyfriends became husbands, couplehood became parenthood, and marriages became estranged. We wept when other chicks lost parents, ached over miscarriages, fretted over minor family disputes. We raged over unfair bosses, dispicable cads, and dippy neighbours. We encouraged and advised over unruly children, grade five math and unexpected illness.
When any one Chick was suffering, five other chicks were suffering too. And when any one Chick was celebrating, the first to be notified after immediate family was the Chick network... ! When a baby was born, it had 5 extra Aunties... When a boyfriend messed up, he pissed off 6 women at once! And when each of us "coupled up", the man we loved would get a warning... the chick parties are sacred and non-negotiable. As far as I know, it was never written into the actual wedding vows, but you can be darn sure it was implied!
Now friendships like this are very rare, but they are also quite unique in a few ways... in the interests of brevity, I will outline why in point form:
- Obviously with 6 very different personalities in the group, there is always someone in the group who will TOTALLY GET what you were talkng about... and agree with you! This is very valuable when you were struggling with a decision;
- On the other hand, there is usually one of us who may not agree with you completely, and is brave enough to tell you so... something each of us has had happen. This is disconcerting when it happens to you, but also valuable - it is rare for someone who is not a blood relative to be brave enough to tell you how they really feel. It is even more rare to have a friendship strong enough to survive it.
- We all now have several pairs of surrogate parents, and a full complement of extra brothers & sisters. But these pseudo-parents & siblings are especially cool because they don't try to do that "family thing" to us at all, and they all widen our life experience vicariously by doing things that members of our own families don't or can't do... like circle dance, triumph over exceptional physical adversity or addiction, hike the Grand Canyon, ski the mountains, fix tractors and make exceptionally good wine! But they also cheer us all on from a distance, marvel over our special friendship, keep us in their hearts - as they are in ours.
- At any given time, all the Chick's know that someone else's life is wierder, busier, sexier, funner (is that even a word?) or more trying than our own. This keeps us grounded, and it keeps us sane.
Our chick parties now feature a bit less wine, a bit more fibre and a bit more sleep.
Our babies are becoming young men and women, our career paths have solidified, our hair is greying (or blonde-ing, in my case).
We've now struggled through long division and basic algebra 2 or 3 times more than anyone should ever have to...
We're all saving up for college again...
And at any given time, each one of the six of us knows that - no matter how miserable our day has been - there's a supportive email or phone call just around the corner. If there isn't, all you have to do is send out the call... I'm struggling, hurting, needy - and the Chicks will rush to your aid like white blood cells to the point of infection - eager to share, help, lift-up, console, validate, honour, heal... love. And when push comes to shove, that is more than you could ever hope for in a friend! But we're all used to it by now... after all - it's a chick thing!
I think I will end here, with a quote and a toast to my dear chickies... and to all the other friends who have found their way into my life and my heart:
The quote:
"If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me." ~Author Unknown
And the toast? It has to be:
Here's to you old friend, may you live a thousand years,
Just to sort of cheer things up, in this vale of human tears;
And may I live a thousand too-a thousand-less one day,
Because I wouldn't want to be on earth, and hear you'd passed away.
Merry Christmas, Dear Chickies... now - who is having the next Chick Party!?
