High school is the place a young girl begins to form lasting relationships. The important ones are with her girlfriends. When I was in high school, I thought my friends would be in my life forever. Unfortunately, college, military service, marriage and children caused us to grow apart. Besides the occasional reunion, our daily lives kept us from reconnecting. 40 years later and I find I am missing that young girl somewhere inside me and her first "BFFs."

With an empty nest and a deceased husband, it became evident that I had to learn how to reinvent myself. Grief and depression were my daily struggles, and getting out of bed some days was all I could manage. After several years of grieving and the "woulda, coulda, shoulda's," I needed to put on my big girl pants and push myself out to my next journey.

My first instinct was to return to my hometown and find that young girl who believed in opportunity and the possibilities of finding her destiny. Even though I was scared and lonely, I had the help of my new widowed friends. They taught me to understand that life does not end at the death of a loved one - it changes. It was up to me to accept the change and open my heart and mind to this exciting new adventure.

Thanks to social media, it was very easy to find the women of my teenage years, and they opened their arms as well as their hearts to me. We spent hours on Messenger talking about old boyfriends, boys we crushed on, teachers, parties, our parents, and prom. When we got to talking about our children and husbands, we learned more about each other's pasts and began to grow a new appreciation for each of our experiences.

I drove up north to my hometown on my birthday last year, and we had a slumber party in my hotel room. With all the baggage of these 50-plus-year old women, they stopped their lives to spend it with me. We stayed up all night giggling, gossiping, crying, and laughing like we were teens instead of calendar-challenged ladies. We formed a bond that fateful night, the bond of sisterhood that keeps us from being forever alone in this ever-challenging world.

The women of my teenage years knew me before adulthood changed me - when my dreams and aspirations were ripe for the choosing. We are from a generation that loves hard and cries even harder. We are also that generation that took the hardships that life threw at us and walked away smiling.

In the past several weeks, reports of suicide have filled the media with questions of how this can happen. As a victim of depression, I hid it as best it could; if no one askes, I just kept on smiling. Or if they ask, their go-to answer to my sadness was, "just don't feel that way." It was extremely hard to reach out and ask for help. I never got to the point of considering suicide, but I know many have. There is always help; there is always someone at the end of a phone call. Just make the call 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433).

I admire all the women in my life, past and present. They will never know how very loved and appreciated they are to me. Because, without them, I might still be locked up in a tiny apartment waiting for the young girl that does not know she exists.