On the Coast of Somewhere Beautiful

I often joke with my friend Ben that he and I have two different memories of our shared experiences. Over the years we’ve shared several adventures, our most recent one being a long weekend in Costa Rica.





Ben’s the ultimate planner, organizer and harasser of customer service, so he remembers details. This weekend we had a debate about the color of the cape our friend Jerusha wore at her wedding. (Jerusha, feel free to sort us out in the comments!) I may not remember what the bride wore, but I remember what I was feeling that day. My memories are emotional and relational, with little emphasis on details.




I suspect the Costa Rica trip will go down similarly in history because there is something about being in another country, stripped of my Blackberry, that leaves me a lot of time for thinking. One of the things that I thought about this weekend was my Thursday night girlfriends and how deeply their influence goes into my life.






One night, out on the town of Manuel Antonio, I was wearing Michelle’s ring, Katie’s bangle and Emily’s purse—all acquired at one of our group’s accessory swaps. While I was gone, I had no worries about my house and my cat because I knew Beth had it under control. When I packed my backpack for the trip, and as we passed a few hostels, I was wishing Laura was there like she was the last time I wore a backpack in another country. Ben and his partner Stuart were talking about how much they loved their recent trip to Charleston and I so badly wanted to text Melanye and ask her for the name of the beach she camped on in the Charleston area for Melanye is always just a text away! The wine we drank, the Spanish we attempted to speak—they would’ve been right up Hannah’s alley.




It was wonderful to be in Costa Rica. It was wonderful to laugh and sightsee with these dear guys, but it was a pleasant surprise to remember just how good I have it at home.