I saw them at a Wendy’s in Spokane. 

As my family got out and stretched, half way during our road trip, we were all exhausted. 

And tired. And grumpy. 

We had been listening to the same  “Imagine Dragons” CD for hours. 

And it wasn’t exactly the most picturesque times of my family. Dyp’s blood sugar was low- translation: grumpy buns city. The teenager kept rolling his eyes at us. Daniel was only wearing one sock…what? Micah had spilled down the front of his shirt, and it was backwards and inside out. Grace was covered head to toe voluntarily with Marker. 

I looked perfect…no, actually I was still wearing my work out clothes from teaching that morning. 

A giant exhale was released when we all had food, and I had a diet dr pepper. 

And then I heard them. 

And then I saw them. 

A mismatched group of different personalities, but yet so connected. 

Their laughter made me smile. 

They seemed to really really know each other. 

And love each other. 

They were my favorite kind of people. I just knew it, not only because they weren’t afraid that their laughter took up all the sound in Wendy’s- but because I could tell they were real. 

They had laugh lines, and canes. One was wearing a house coat, one had a tattoo. 

I told Dyp they reminded me of my tribe of friends, all of us. And he watched them for a second as they erupted in laughter again and said “yep, pretty much.” 

So I went over and told them. That they reminded me of my good friends. That there are six of us. That we all have families and lives, and are being pulled in a million directions…but that we have something. Something strong and irreplaceable. 

They could have looked at me like I was crazy. But instead one stood up and hugged me. And they thanked me for telling them. And then we took a picture together. And there were six of us. And then they let me laugh with them- and I felt like I was part of something magical…

And yet I felt at home. 

My life has given me many amazing friends. Friends I can be real with. Friends who truly know me. I am truly blessed to know good strong amazing women. Who are all flawed, and messy, and real. Who I GET to call friends.  Some of them I consider my best friends. 

And then there’s my tribe. We are like the breakfast club, only funnier.  

Here’s to the good ones. 

May we love one another until we are old with walkers…show up when our loved ones are dying, pluck each other’s chin hairs, even though we still barely have our licenses. May we never lose our laughter.