This past week my friend Tara came for a visit.
She is one of my original soul sisters.
You see, a soul sister is a friend you can share your truth with and know that it will be held in sacred trust.
Most of my life I tried to take care of others.
The part I wasn’t so good at was letting others in. Admitting when I was failing. Falling. Scared.
But awhile back when the life I had planned for myself changed forever in one of the most unexpected and painful ways, I had a choice. Reach out – or risk my heart breaking into a million little pieces never to be put back together again.
For one of the first times in my life, I chose to reach out. She reached back.
When I wanted to talk, she listened, ordered tartinis (best martini ever), and passed me kleenex.
When I called from Ireland scared, she was there. Always.
At a time when I didn’t know where I belonged, she created a space of belonging.
You see, when your soul has a friend, you’re never alone. Ever. And thanks to her, I never was during that time.
The only thing better than having a soul sister you can reach out to when you need a hand is one you can equally celebrate your joy and happiness with. And that’s exactly what we got to do this week-end.
We brunched at Morandi’s in Greenwich Village (the best brunch ever – thanks Michel and Kevin for the recommendation)…
(I know what you’re thinking… I should have bought bigger sunglasses. There are still a few inches of my face not entirely covered… I don’t care, I love ’em).
We ate cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery…
We got to enjoy the fun of being girly-girls. We drank champagne. We dressed up in our summer dresses. We let the curling iron reach just the right temperature to create the perfect “beach wave look” for the evening ahead…
We headed to Little Branch, an impossible-to-find-unless-you-know-what-you’re-looking-for West Village speakeasy (an underground bar created during the Prohibition). The place was drenched in the smell of its own distilled liquor. Live jazz wafted through the dark club (so dark you could barely see your hand in front of your face).
The only thing cooler than Little Branch drinks (this is Tara drinking a crushed blackberry special) were the house rules, which included:
“#3. No fighting, play fighting, no talk about fighting. #5. Do not bring anyone here unless you would leave that person alone in your home. You are responsible for the behaviour of your guests.”
And on the second day, we shopped…
While we do embrace our girly-ness, we are equal part dreamers and seekers.
Tara shares my love of words. The girl has never met a book she didn’t like.
And I got to see the kid-like awe on her face when I showed her my beloved Rose Room in the New York City Public Library. The plaque hanging just above the entrance is a testament to what we both believe about the transformational power of a good book…
(Note, this is one panel of the ceiling in the Library’s Rose Room – the place is stunning)
For Tara’s final night we went to dinner at possibly one of the coolest restaurants I have ever been to. Tortilla Flats.
We were introduced to new friends…
Originally from the same town in Ireland (above, left to right), Paula (still in Ireland) and Eamor (now in Dubai) were visiting Sean (currently living in Manhattan). We were grateful for their kindness and the opportunity to meet them. Irish people rock!
Characters like Mr. Jack Black-meets-Jim Belushi will remain embedded forever. Anyone who says tinfoil hats are out of style has clearly never met this man…
Tara has left New York now and returned to her family and big life in Ottawa. But I hope she understands that she taught me what real friendship was during a time when I most needed to learn it. I only hope I can show her the same open spirit and genuine heart. Cuz that’s what soul sisters do…
