There are all kinds of journeys—physical, mental, emotional we’ve all been on them in one form or another. But the journey of forgiveness to love is often difficult to recognize, experience or capture over a lifetime, let alone a weekend.
Yet I experienced the hurt, healing and beauty of this journey in the small fishing village of Rågeleje between two wonderful, life long friends, Martine and Mette who I feel blessed to call my friends as well.
Mette and Martine grew each other up. Each knows the other’s hidden hurt, biggest worries and majestic triumphs: Very different in temperament, but not in their commitment to their friendship.
The three of us embarked on a weekend getaway that happened to take place right after the two Ms had a falling out.
With Martine at the wheel, Mette riding shotgun and I safely in the backseat we embarked on the road trip. A rather cool and cursory conversation ebbed and flowed in the front seat. One didn’t have to speak Danish to know that their rift had not been resolved.
The dinner we shared on the first night was fun and filled with laughter. The tepid undertone so evident in the car softened to a quiet rumble.
The next morning we set off towards the beach along a well-trodden path on the verge of spring. Mette would walk with me, then Martine would take my side and Mette fell behind or ahead. The ice not yet melted for either.
I lagged behind with camera in hand, besotted with all that I saw around me. Martine and Mette began the excursion a cool distance apart, the quiet murmur of their conversation overtaken at times by crashing waves.
I don’t know if they were discussing their fight, kids or the pressures of being the happiest people in the world. I couldn’t hear nor understand. Yet as I watched these two friends walk, I witnessed the power of their bond, their knowledge of each other, their love for one another pull them back together.
As Mette and Martine continued their walk they grew closer to one another in both distance and heart. Their faces relaxed, now unafraid to look at each other.
I clicked away in awe of one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve ever witnessed. The beauty of their friendship is that neither sought perfection nor the need to be right. They embraced their differences and found a way to resolve this bump in the road, which was simply a bump, not a chasm.
Mette and Martine’s familiar chatter and intimate silences followed them back to the house while I carried with me a very full heart…as well as a lesson learned.
Thank you my friends. Thank you.