At one point in college, there were six Sarahs in our theater department (Sarah Vi., Sarah Va., Sarah M., Sarah H., Sara H. and me, Sarah S.). While all of us identified with sharing our name, six seemed a little out-of-control. Today, I connected with two of the other five Sarahs (Sarah Va. who is now a Sarah H. and Sarah M.).
Sarah Va., now Sarah H., was my ceramic painting partner. She had the final product to give to me, so I picked her up from work and drove her to Union Station. We pulled over on Adams right by one of the entrances and chatted in the car for a bit, ignoring the honks from cabs driving around us.
Sarah M. and I talked on the phone. She lives in nyc and it has been literal years since we’ve seen each other or talked. Unfortunately (or fortunately), arthritis in its various forms, brought us back together. I’ve never had a friend my age with a similar health issue. Having someone to talk to who has actually experienced the same problems, challenges, and stresses feels really good. While I wish she did not have to go through it, I am glad we can talk about it and hope that she finds as much comfort in our shared experience as I do.