Of Glue Guns and Cleaning Caddies

When I left LA, I left my cleaning caddy and cleansers with one of the friends who helped me move. It was really a gift to me to not have to take it in the car, and with open products the movers wouldn’t take it in the truck; besides we were cleaning long after the truck was packed.

It’s now four and a half years later and the other day she texted me a photo of the caddy and told me that she still thinks of me and our friendship every time she uses it. To be fair, as young mothers a lot of our friendship did revolve around helping each other clean or talking to each other while we cleaned. 

Today as I pulled out my glue gun to work on my littlest’s Halloween costume I had to text her and tell her that I still think of her every time I use it. You see, she had been scandalized to discover that I was a card carrying Mormon woman who didn’t own a glue gun. Worried they’d revoke my membership she picked up a mini gun for me on her next trip to Walmart. It probably didn’t cost more than $5 but it continues to serve me well and remind me of her. 

As we chuckled today over the mundane items that remind us of our friendship it occurred to me that those are the best symbols of friendship. 

We weren’t casual acquaintances. Our friendship wasn’t based on lunch dates or mani/pedis. We lived in tandem. We served each other. We were there for each other at the crossroads as well as the minutiae. 

A cleaning caddy and a glue gun. That’s true love and living right there. 

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