Friends come in all shapes and sizes. Some have been with us forever, while others arrive exactly when we need them. Today I’m celebrating one special friend’s birthday from afar as she enjoys the adventure of a lifetime in Australia.

Nearly twenty years ago, we met at a conference for Michigan farm wives. Those gatherings gave women living a unique lifestyle a chance to connect, and at a time when I needed someone who understood, one conversation in a hotel pool became the beginning of one of the most treasured friendships of my life.

Soon afterward she invited me to a concert where her son was opening for the Zac Brown Band. That invitation also introduced me to a group of women who had been friends since their high school swim team days. Somehow, they welcomed me into their circle as though I’d always belonged. That kind of acceptance isn’t something you forget.

Every year since, we’ve gathered at her cottage to solve the world’s problems, laugh until our stomachs hurt, and create another story we’ll be telling for years. Some memories belong only to the two of us, including one favorite photograph of myself that reminds me how much her friendship meant during a particularly difficult season of my life.

As birthdays rolled by, we were always looking for our next adventure. One year she bought a speed boat from one of my friends. It already had a name: Girl on Fire.

The name wasn’t chosen for her. Its first owner had bought the boat after her divorce – the first thing she ever purchased just for herself. It was her declaration of independence, her fresh start, and Girl on Fire fit her perfectly.

Sometimes, though, a name has enough room for more than one story.

Starting with that first test run, it was clear that the name fit its second owner just as well. Not because she was loud or reckless, (well, maybe that day) but because she throws herself into life with contagious enthusiasm, generous friendship, and a laugh that has a way of making everyone around her feel lighter.

Thurston and I rode up to the lake to deliver the boat.  After sealing the deal, it was decided we needed one more ride before supper.  The paperwork and life jackets stayed on shore while our common sense apparently did the same.

She hit the throttle, laughing as we bounced across the water. At one point I was thrown completely out of my seat. We were still laughing when she slowed down—only to discover two conservation officers floating beside us with a cheerful, “Good afternoon, ladies.”

Let’s just say we were fortunate to leave with nothing more than a ticket and a story that still makes us laugh.

But somewhere between being tossed across that boat and watching her grin from ear to ear, inspiration struck. This was exactly how I wanted to remember us – not worrying about growing older but celebrating every chance we had to feel young.

For her next birthday, we all ordered bright red Baywatch-style swimsuits, hired a photographer, and spent the day on the water. We posed in oversized sunglasses, bright red lipstick, beads, and floppy hats. We laughed until we cried, then finished by holding hands and jumping into the lake together.

Those photographs have become treasures. Most of them will never be shared publicly, but every time I see them, I’m reminded that the best part of aging isn’t pretending we’re young. It’s finding friends who remind us that joy never has to grow old.

Happy Birthday, my friend. I hope Australia has been everything you imagined.

The first Girl on Fire marked a fresh start. The second reminds me that strength doesn’t always make a lot of noise. Sometimes it looks like the friend who checks on everyone else, asks for nothing in return, quietly carries her own struggles, and still finds a way to fill a boat—and a room—with laughter.

I have been blessed to know them both.

We’re all aging. Let’s do it out loud.

Nora