Omne trium perfectum, good things come in threes. Beginning my article with a Latin phrase is a definite sign of intellect, prestige, and mastery of pretension. It rolls off the tongue with a bit more fashion, pizazz, and proof that I utilize Google.
The Three Little Pigs, Three French Hens, and a three-ring circus would never be without three. What a dismal world it would be.
Researching scenarios that prove this epithet, I chose to examine my own experiences. One example indisputably frolicked to the forefront of my flustered mind. Unsure of the regional implications and wary of excluding those above the Mason-Dixon, I won’t feign the South has exclusivity. It is a universal phenomenon.
Almost every woman has a trifecta, strong ties that unite a group of women who may appear to otherwise have very little in common, somewhat of yin and yang but with a twist that keeps things intriguing. It is a natural force with extraordinary results — an equilateral triangle maintaining calm or creating chaos.
For me, it is the saint, thinker, and troublemaker – a mystical recipe for survival or disaster. It is to my trifecta I turn when life gets a bit squally. Considering myself the thinker of the motley mix, I have but two options. The saint keeps me grounded and semi-logical, while the troublemaker seems to have an endless supply of questionable solutions.
The saint is sensible, responsible, and far more rational than her cohorts. When tempers go high and right, she is there with an appropriate amount of chocolate and an insufficient amount of alcohol. She makes sure we have sunscreen, arrive home safely, and are always the first to RSVP.
She has single-handedly kept the troublemaker and me out of prison. She has direct lines to Jesus and an endless supply of Advil. The contents of her purse are the eighth wonder of the world.
I do believe every trifecta needs a troublemaker. She has kept us both on our toes and given us stories to tell our future grandkids. Continuously encouraging us to color outside the lines, buy the shoes and add just a bit more makeup.
Her heart is golden, motives dubious, and her willingness to go to battle is legendary. She intuitively hears the slightest tone in my voice and arrives with a baseball bat and a bottle of wine, ready to use her expertise with both.
Maybe the trifecta is little pieces of us all, and together we form a capable, caring, and charismatic woman. They turn to me when difficult situations knock on their door. I arrive with a solution or an alibi without fail. The troublemaker knows I am the one to bail her out, find her car and help with the pesky adult tasks. The saint knows I am the first to stand by her side when her soft voice is unheard. They both know to call me if they find themselves alone.
We fight. We disagree. We drink bottles of wine while solving all the world’s problems and stay in touch no matter how life laps the miles. We are, to each other, a true north, especially when things go south.
One woman is strong, two are fierce, but a group of three can change the world or at least your mood. Soulmates of a different kind with three hearts, three personalities, and evidence that good things certainly do come in threes.
Cherimie Crane Weatherford is the owner/founder of SugarBelle, a long-time real estate broker and a lover of the obscurities of southern culture. To contact her with praise and adoration, email CCWIslandNews@gmail.com. To complain, call your local representative.
