Six years ago I met her online.

Five and a half years ago we had our first phone call.

We’ve exchanged pictures and gifts. Talked about our husbands, our children. 

She was the first person my husband called when I went into the hospital in labor – or for surgery. 

I sat helpless miles away as she suffered through a difficult divorce.

She sat feeling just as helpless as I struggled with my children, their diagnoses, daily life.

Last week I took a last minute trip.  I packed in an hour, loaded all three kids into the truck and I drove.

For almost 700 miles we crossed four states to end up in Virginia. 

I stepped out of my truck and onto her front lawn and finally got to embrace my best friend. 

We hugged, laughed, talked, and cried.  She got to see my girls and play with them.  Our sons met and became fast and very close friends (as we expected them to). We sat two feet from each other and played on the computer, laughing and joking that we should log on and chat online at the same time.

My reasons for going no longer mattered as much as being there. With my friend.  Seeing that it isn’t the distant connection that keeps us close.  It is a real connection, and now been cemented by face to face contact, long hugs and comfortable silence.

I traveled almost seven hundred miles and felt just as at home as I do now.

Always my friend.  Always my sister.  Now more “real” then ever.