"One hand friends"

I've heard you can have all the friends in the world, but it's the few friends you can count on one hand that are the life-changers. The very best of the best. "One hand friends," we call them. "We" being Miranda and I. Miranda being one of those "one hand friends."

In the three short years I've known her, she's skyrocketed to become one of the absolute best people I've ever known. To meet her is to simply adore her. It's infectious. There's no need for me to explain what a best friend means. We all have them. The sleepovers, the late-night phone calls and texts, the tears, the advice, the laughs, the hand-holding (literally) when we need it most.

In a week she's moving to Mississippi. (GASP). The good news is it's temporary; just a year. And she's doing it to jump-start her dream of medical school (after which she'll become -- mark my words -- the most amazing doctor we'll ever know). The bad news is Mississippi is not Wisconsin.

Yesterday afternoon we had a small gathering to say goodbye on the most beautiful day this miserably hot summer has had to offer. As the  night wore on I knew the time was coming for an actual goodbye, and I couldn't help but be reminded of the time more than six years ago when I had to say goodbye to another best friend who was moving across state lines. Oh, the tears.

I hugged Miranda at the end of the night and, like the weenie I am, immediately began to cry. I'd miss her! Her home, her kitty cat, her cozy slumber parties, her laugh, the access to all these things whenever I needed them. In true "Mama Miranda" fashion, she comforted me the way I imagine a mama hen might comfort her chick. A smile, another hug, the reassurance that she'd be back before I knew it.

There, there, Krista. Wipe your tears. You giant baby.

She will be back, and life will go on without having skipped a beat when she does. In fact, my best friend who moved away six years ago recently moved back with her husband and baby in tow! And boy, while strong friendships remain unchanged when existing across state lines and time zones, it sure does remind you to appreciate those people. The "one hand friends." Like Sara in Ohio, another one much too far away, but who could have my Wisconsin kidney, if she ever needed it. These girls are my people, whether in my state or not.

But I think that's what the "one-hand" friends are all about. You hold onto them in that hand and you don't let go, because to let go would mean giving away a friendship that's changed your life in all of the good ways. So I want to thank Miranda for fitting so nicely in the palm of my hand. As I wave goodbye while she makes her way to Mississippi, I'll use the other hand to do so, so nobody falls out of the good hand.