Twenty-three years and a couple of weeks ago, I had what I thought was a chance encounter but instead turned out to be one of the most significant meetings of my life. I was seventeen years old, and on a trip to the “big city” of Lewiston, Idaho, my high school boyfriend and I met up with his cousin and his cousin’s new girlfriend for a quick dinner at the now long-defunct Bonanza restaurant. Said girlfriend was also seventeen, but she was so cool, so sophisticated, so self-possessed that I felt like a child in her presence. All these years later, I still think she’s the coolest person I’ve ever met.

Fast forward very many years, a passel of kids, a number of ex-husbands (for each of us), and we’re still going strong, the best of best friends. She’s spent most of the past year with us, and when she goes back to the States next week I know I’ll be at loose ends for quite a while. There aren’t many friends I could spend that much time around and still be able to make fresh and interesting (and hilarious!) conversation with.

Last week it suddenly occurred to me that we needed to do something big to commemorate our remarkable friendship, and that big something involved a visit to the tattoo parlor. I searched frantically for someone who could fit us in on short notice, and after a few back-and-forth emails, a wonderful Englishman, Ric Payne at WD Tattoo, agreed to give us a slot bright and early this morning.

The appointment scheduled, we started trying to figure out a design. We wanted something that incorporated each other’s names, somehow, but we didn’t want just the actual words or initials. After a bit, Debi mused that instead of a “B” for my name, she could get a bee. I thought that was a neat idea, and we sighed over the fact that her “D” presented no such option. Then light bulbs went off in both our heads and we said at the same time, “but Debra means bee!” Serendipity, I tell you.

Not only would a bee symbolize both of our names, but it is also has many other good associations, including industriousness and perseverance. Furthermore, the word bee in Hebrew has the same root consonants as the word word. This is an added layer of fitting-ness for me, as I have a deep and abiding love for words. We decided to get our little bees inked on the inside of our right wrists, the right side being the “giving” side of the body, and our relationship being built on all that we have given each other over the years.

This morning we left the kids with Olof’s mom and took ourselves to Skellefteå, where we made our way into the far recesses of a maze-like cellar and met up with our guy. He did a great job, and I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll be seeing him again.