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The last time we were all together was when one of us, the only one of us, got married.

Kristin's Getting Married!

There’s been some redemption since. Some efforts towards healthy interaction, yes. But mostly there’s been destruction and chasm. And one of us is gone entirely, as far as anyone can tell. She doesn’t mind being so far, but everyone always makes comment about her absence. It’s the saddest sort of equation.

You see, years ago I gave a name to this crew of friends I had. No one agreed with me. Even these friends though I was silly for being so semiformal and so I stood alone. I thought I was being intentional, thought I was drawing us closer together and facilitating the relationships we were building. I see now that it may have been a bit much. It’s possible, I suppose, that I grew somewhat overzealous about creating us this little team of friend-making. But there we were, willing or otherwise, a group of gals with a label.

In keeping with the fact that I thought the idea, the people, the plan were all fabulous, when I referred to the crew, I called them the Fab Five. There were five of us, of course. We all lived in Michigan at the time, in various parts of the state. We had met years before through a youth camp where we all served as young adult staff members. We had Jesus in common at the most basic level, a love for Him, surely. Beyond that, we had visions and dreams of all kinds yet we still dared to dream together. We dreamed big dreams, too. Dreams that knew no boundaries. Dreams which didn’t consider destruction.

Now with college there’s graduation and with growing up, parting ways. With moving up, moving on and so forth. So, pretty soon Michigan had lost the core of this crew. The easy answers are in the telephone calls as the day winds down, the emails with pictures attached, even the hand-written letters and the packages bursting at the corners, waiting to be torn open and indulged. But when the weeks go by with conversations only between one party and the voicemail and nary voice to voice, the phone calls start to space out. When the emails and the letters go out, but space and silence are sent back, no postage necessary, the incentive grows dim. The cords between us grew thin as time passed by.

And eventually, I started to see the spaces in the world we’d built together. We hadn’t quite considered the pull that change would have, we didn’t commit like I thought we had. And still, of the five of us, only I ever use the label that I gave us. We’ve been living apart for years now, our dreams abandoned in limbo, empty, uninhabited. The last time we were all together might have been the last time we’ll ever all be together.

Plus the Bride makes Fab Five

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