One of the best years of my life was August 1992 through July 1993.  It was during this period that I had two of the best roommates that you could imagine.  I had a previous roommate who started out wonderful, but that is a whole other story.

In August of 1992, (I think that is the correct month) I moved into a three bedroom, two bathroom, house with my friends Nancy and Alicia.  They were sisters.  The three of us had a great time the year that we spent together.  We had all been living in apartments, so moving into a house was very exciting for the three of us.

We enjoyed our time together and became like our own little family.  We had happy, goofy times together.  We planted flowers in these odd little square flower beds in the middle of the backyard, only to find out that they were horseshoe pits.  We enjoyed each other’s cooking and friends.  At Thanksgiving, my parents were out of town.  However, I had my own family dinner with Nancy and Alicia and a few others.

When Christmas rolled around, we decided we would decorate our house so that it looked like Christmas had actually thrown up.  We wrapped pictures on the wall as presents.  We draped garland and lights down the stairway.  We had the tallest, biggest Christmas tree that I have ever had.  Anywhere there was a space for a Christmas decoration it was filled.  We were all very pleased with ourselves.

We spent New Year’s Eve together watching Steven Segal movies.  Corny?  Maybe, but we had a wonderful time.  We talked about everything imaginable that night.  It was in fact one of the best New Year’s Eves ever.

We encouraged each other.  We were there for each other. We all enjoyed cooking.  One of my specialties at the time was cornbread.  When I pulled out the corn meal and the iron skillet, Alicia would call our friend Tonna and say “Anna’s making cornbread.”  A short time later, our doorbell would ring.

The main thing I learned from these two women (besides the value of true friendship) was the importance of ironing.  Before living with them, I very rarely ironed.  If something were a little wrinkled, I would make a decision.  It was generally one of two things.  “It’s not too bad” and I would wear it or “Maybe I need to throw it in the dryer for a minute.”  However, very rarely did it require pulling out the iron.

I remember one morning (shortly after moving in) as I was walking towards the front door to leave for work.  Nancy asked me incredulously “Are you going to work with your dress all wrinkled up like that???!!!”  I replied “It will just get all wrinkled when I sit down.”  It was shortly after this that my ironing lessons began.  The ironing skills I learned that year I still use today.  I can put an excellent crease in a pair of pants or the sleeves of a shirt.  It still isn’t my favorite thing to do, but a sense of nostalgia steals over me every time I pull the iron and ironing board out.

I still consider these two strong, independent women as two of my dearest friends.  When my Dad passed away in August of 1997, they were there for me.  You don’t have to see someone every day.  You don’t have to talk to them constantly.  But when you do get together, its as if you just saw each other yesterday.

Advertisements