Ya know how it was when you were a kid and you'd hang out with your friend and you didn't hafta do much.
Maybe just read Archie comic books together. Or watch tv. Or hop on pogo sticks. Or listen to records or go on bike rides through the neighborhood. Or wander down to the creek to catch crawdads or pretend you were stranded on the island just like Gilligan and the gang.
I have a friend who I did just that with.
No penciling in on my calendar weeks in advance. He was my automatic friend. My automatically be there friend.
"Hi! Ya wanna hang out? it's such a beautiful day!"
"Sure! You wanna go on a picnic?" He'd say.
"Yes! I'd love that!"
"I'll pick up some snacks... see you in about 15 minutes!"
"whatcha doin'?" He'd ask.
"Oh, " I'd say, "I'm thinkin' of painting my gutters..."
"Ya need some help? I'll be right over and bring my ladder!"
"That's great! See ya when ya get here!"
"Hey what are you doing tomorrow?" He'd ask.
"Not sure. What are you doin'?" "Ya wanna go to the A's game? We can barbecue there in the parking lot before the game!"
"Sure! That'll be fun! Let me know what I should bring!"
We had an easy, spontaneous, always ready friendship. We hung out together a lot and all the time.
"Ya wanna come over and watch LOST?"
"I'll be right over."
"Hey! I wanna go on a walk, ya wanna join me?"
"Sure! I'll see you in five minutes!"
Such an easy friend to say yes to. And now he is gone.
He moved away two weeks ago. Three hundred long miles away.
This morning I needed to pick up dirt to fill up sink holes in my backyard. Normally, I'd call my friend, "Hey! Whatcha doin? Ya wanna help me bring in some dirt?"
He'd say, "Sure! See ya there!" And he'd drive up in his truck and we'd haul that dirt out to my backyard.
But this time he wasn't there.
The air felt so empty.
The day felt longer than it used to feel.
I called up another friend with a truck and asked the same question. He never returned my call.
Friendships. Really comfortable friends are golden. I didn't always need my friend to help me in my chores. More often than not, we needed each other for fun and adventures and to share a laugh with. We didn't hafta pencil each other in a month in advance. We were instead, the ever-ready spontaneous friend who was always available for fun.
He will always live in my heart.
And I miss him.
Especially today.
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Saturday, November 8, 2008
If you were my friend then
I'd let you ride my sting-ray bike with the steering wheel while I rode your boring bike with the flower basket in front. You could color with all the new crayons that aren't flat or broken and I would give you the last red otter pop in the box. We would build a fort together and I would let you be president while I was vice-president. When playing monopoly, you can use the car to be your piece while I pick something like the dog or shoe or thimble.
If you were my friend then, we would count to three before hanging up the phone. But I would stay on the line until I heard you actually hang up.
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
(silence)
Are you still there?
Yes.
Let's hang up on the count of three.
Ready?
Ready!
One... Two... Three.
bye!
G'bye!
(silence)
Hello?
Hi!
Hey! You were supposed to hang up!
I was waiting for YOU to hang up.
I was waiting FOR YOU to hang up.
Let's do it again.
One. Two. Two and a half. Three.
Bye!
Bye!
Hello?
Hello!
If you were my friend then, I would watch Star Trek with you even though I liked Lost in Space better. When we pretend to be The Monkees, I would play the part of Micky or Michael or Peter because you would want to be Davy Jones. In the movie theater, you'd get the seat closest to the center. We would speak in a fake language whenever we were in front of strangers. We would tell ghost stories shining the flash light under our chins and then fall asleep in our flannel sleeping bags with our transistor radios playing under our pillows.
If you were my friend then, we'd sware we would always be friends. And we would be. We would prick our fingers with a thumb tack and then rub our blood together donning us Blood Sisters.
And we were.
And we are.
If you were my friend then, we would count to three before hanging up the phone. But I would stay on the line until I heard you actually hang up.
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
(silence)
Are you still there?
Yes.
Let's hang up on the count of three.
Ready?
Ready!
One... Two... Three.
bye!
G'bye!
(silence)
Hello?
Hi!
Hey! You were supposed to hang up!
I was waiting for YOU to hang up.
I was waiting FOR YOU to hang up.
Let's do it again.
One. Two. Two and a half. Three.
Bye!
Bye!
Hello?
Hello!
If you were my friend then, I would watch Star Trek with you even though I liked Lost in Space better. When we pretend to be The Monkees, I would play the part of Micky or Michael or Peter because you would want to be Davy Jones. In the movie theater, you'd get the seat closest to the center. We would speak in a fake language whenever we were in front of strangers. We would tell ghost stories shining the flash light under our chins and then fall asleep in our flannel sleeping bags with our transistor radios playing under our pillows.
If you were my friend then, we'd sware we would always be friends. And we would be. We would prick our fingers with a thumb tack and then rub our blood together donning us Blood Sisters.
And we were.
And we are.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
These friends of mine
Ever wonder if your life is random or deliberate? Are we all living out a script that has perhaps already been written for us since time began?
I've been telling people since I was old enough to talk that I picked my mom to be my mom before I was born. I still believe that.
There are people I meet who are so familiar to me. My soul recognizes them instantly and there is a rich, deep connection. It's as though I have known them more than a lifetime. They are friends of mine that have always been.
I squint my eyes and think long and hard and try to remember them from before I met them.
Sometimes when I'm walking down a crowded sidewalk I wonder if I could have met or seen any of those people before. Masses of seemingly unfamiliar faces passing me by completely unaware of my presence and me of theirs. But perhaps I have connected with a few of those faces before. Perhaps we met while on vacation somewhere. Or maybe we have driven behind each other on the highway or they are a cousin to someone I know or I went to kindergarden with them or I read their blog or we've exchanged emails back and forth.
A friend and I have an agreement to pay the other person $20 if either of us runs into someone we know while we're on vacation together. It will happen at some time or another. I really believe that. I want to be the one who wins.
(not for the $20 but I want to run into someone I know in some obscure place far, far away.)
In 1987, I drove up to Seattle from San Francisco all by myself. Between Shasta, California and Centralia, Washington, I noticed the same car passing me at times and other times, I would pass them, but we drove alongside, behind and in front of each other for a long stretch of hours. They were my traveling buddies. Then... without any warning, they exited off the highway without even a wave or a toot-toot of the horn.
I remember missing them the rest of my drive. I thought they could at least motion to me through the window that they were exiting. Give me the option to exit, too. I laughed when I just wrote that. What a silly imagination. But their traveling beside me really did help me feel safe and the journey didn't seem as long. They were like my angel friends. Unknown people who help me on my way.
I believe our life is lot like that journey. There are people just like the travelers, who come into our lives at a particular time and they complete the job they are supposed to do and then move on. Others stay the course; we can not imagine not having each other in our lives at all times.
There's another set of friends we disconnect just for a time. Be it a marriage or a move or a life change that has distracted us being friends for a time. I really believe we will all be connected again.
Have you ever dreamed of someone you haven't thought of in years, and the following day you bump into them at a grocery store. Or they call you on the phone. See what I mean?
A couple years after I solo-drove to Seattle, I was flying home from a business trip in Chicago ... but stopped in Denver to spend New Years with a friend in Aspen. It was a fun flight; the plane was nearly empty so the flight attendants passed out complimentary champagne to everyone while we sang auld lang syne. I sat next to a woman who worked for Hewlett-Packard. Two years later, I am on a flight from Seattle to San Francisco and in mid-flight, she turns around in her seat and sees me sitting there across the aisle and behind her one row. She says, "Weren't you on that fun flight to Denver with me?!"
Such a small world! We talked a few minutes, waved and went on. But that wasn't the end of it. Maybe it was another year or two that had passed and I boarded a crowded airport shuttle to take me home when I see her sitting there next to an empty seat. We both recognized each other instantly and she motions for me to sit with her. She still worked for Hewlett-Packard but had gotten a job transfer near my home. What a coincidence! Again! She handed me her business card and I told her I would show her around town. I meant to call her. But. I got busy and the house needed cleaning and I had to do laundry and go on that road trip and eventually I misplaced her business card and time went on.
Later that year, while reading the newspaper, I read about a horrible car accident and a woman was killed. I recognized her name as the same woman I kept meeting over and over again. The shock and sadness soaked my shirt.
Who was she? Why did we keep meeting in so many different places? What did that mean? Would my life be different if we ever became friends? Is my life already different because we missed that connection?
Friends in my life. Friends for all time. Friends still unknown and unmet. You and I. We are connected. And I appreciate you. More than you'll ever know.
I've been telling people since I was old enough to talk that I picked my mom to be my mom before I was born. I still believe that.
There are people I meet who are so familiar to me. My soul recognizes them instantly and there is a rich, deep connection. It's as though I have known them more than a lifetime. They are friends of mine that have always been.
I squint my eyes and think long and hard and try to remember them from before I met them.
Sometimes when I'm walking down a crowded sidewalk I wonder if I could have met or seen any of those people before. Masses of seemingly unfamiliar faces passing me by completely unaware of my presence and me of theirs. But perhaps I have connected with a few of those faces before. Perhaps we met while on vacation somewhere. Or maybe we have driven behind each other on the highway or they are a cousin to someone I know or I went to kindergarden with them or I read their blog or we've exchanged emails back and forth.
A friend and I have an agreement to pay the other person $20 if either of us runs into someone we know while we're on vacation together. It will happen at some time or another. I really believe that. I want to be the one who wins.
(not for the $20 but I want to run into someone I know in some obscure place far, far away.)
In 1987, I drove up to Seattle from San Francisco all by myself. Between Shasta, California and Centralia, Washington, I noticed the same car passing me at times and other times, I would pass them, but we drove alongside, behind and in front of each other for a long stretch of hours. They were my traveling buddies. Then... without any warning, they exited off the highway without even a wave or a toot-toot of the horn.
I remember missing them the rest of my drive. I thought they could at least motion to me through the window that they were exiting. Give me the option to exit, too. I laughed when I just wrote that. What a silly imagination. But their traveling beside me really did help me feel safe and the journey didn't seem as long. They were like my angel friends. Unknown people who help me on my way.
I believe our life is lot like that journey. There are people just like the travelers, who come into our lives at a particular time and they complete the job they are supposed to do and then move on. Others stay the course; we can not imagine not having each other in our lives at all times.
There's another set of friends we disconnect just for a time. Be it a marriage or a move or a life change that has distracted us being friends for a time. I really believe we will all be connected again.
Have you ever dreamed of someone you haven't thought of in years, and the following day you bump into them at a grocery store. Or they call you on the phone. See what I mean?
A couple years after I solo-drove to Seattle, I was flying home from a business trip in Chicago ... but stopped in Denver to spend New Years with a friend in Aspen. It was a fun flight; the plane was nearly empty so the flight attendants passed out complimentary champagne to everyone while we sang auld lang syne. I sat next to a woman who worked for Hewlett-Packard. Two years later, I am on a flight from Seattle to San Francisco and in mid-flight, she turns around in her seat and sees me sitting there across the aisle and behind her one row. She says, "Weren't you on that fun flight to Denver with me?!"
Such a small world! We talked a few minutes, waved and went on. But that wasn't the end of it. Maybe it was another year or two that had passed and I boarded a crowded airport shuttle to take me home when I see her sitting there next to an empty seat. We both recognized each other instantly and she motions for me to sit with her. She still worked for Hewlett-Packard but had gotten a job transfer near my home. What a coincidence! Again! She handed me her business card and I told her I would show her around town. I meant to call her. But. I got busy and the house needed cleaning and I had to do laundry and go on that road trip and eventually I misplaced her business card and time went on.
Later that year, while reading the newspaper, I read about a horrible car accident and a woman was killed. I recognized her name as the same woman I kept meeting over and over again. The shock and sadness soaked my shirt.
Who was she? Why did we keep meeting in so many different places? What did that mean? Would my life be different if we ever became friends? Is my life already different because we missed that connection?
Friends in my life. Friends for all time. Friends still unknown and unmet. You and I. We are connected. And I appreciate you. More than you'll ever know.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Faith and Fate and Friends
I was 19 years old when I spent a hot summer in East Texas at a bible boot camp for young teens. (That's my own affectionate name for it).
I wasn't raised religious. I was born catholic and attended catechism when I was small, but my parents pulled us out when the church began charging money for it.
When I was 17 and on a summer vacation traveling across country with my family and friends, I picked up a tattered-up little paperback book and read it while sitting in the back of a Dodge Van traveling somewhere between California and North Carolina.
This lovely book made me see things in an entirely new way and would undoubtedly change me forever. The book was called Mr. God, this is Anna. It's the story of a 5-year-old girl who's found wandering the streets of London who turns out be quite extraordinary and insightful. It hit such a cord with me and so I longed to have that same close friendship with God as she did.
It was because of that book and two years later, I decided to spend my summer at a bible boot camp in East Texas. I was like fish out of water. Everyone carried around leather bound bibles with their names engraved on the cover. I had a paper-back catholic teenage bible called THE WAY that had faces of teenagers inside the words. I didn't know any of the songs they sang, I didn't know how to pray and was confused by bible stories... thought it was Gepetto living in the belly of a whale and who was Jonah.
One morning we were called into a meeting and were told we were going to be put on teams of four and venture off into small towns around East Texas for a long weekend called a "Faith Outreach". We would be entirely on our own with nothing but a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and $5. We had a week to start exercising our faith by praying in $5. We could only use the $5 dollars that came to us in an act of faith.
I prayed for $5 to come in every single day. Every morning when the mail would arrive, I would eagerly check my mailbox and every morning, I came up empty-handed.
A week later, on the morning of the Faith Outreach, I saw the white school bus circle around up the drive to take us on our adventure. But I still hadn't received my $5. I was embarrassed and disappointed and felt foolish having my small overnight bag packed with clothes. I was convinced everyone would see right through me and know I'm not loved by God as much as they were.
"Does everyone have their $5?!"
I felt my face sting from shame. I raised my hand and was relieved to discover a handful of others who also didn't have $5. We were told to bow our heads and pray once more and then go to our mailboxes to find the money. Sure enough, there was an envelope in my box addressed "To Shawn from Jesus" and there was a $5 dollar bill in there. I recognized Roger's handwriting on the envelope.
Off we went on our adventure! I was let off in the oldest town in Texas called Nacodoches near the campus of Stephen F. Austin State University.
Along with three other girls, I stuffed my overnight bag inside the girls' locker room and then walked blocks and blocks down to the K-Mart and ordered All-You-Can-Eat fish sticks for our meal, bought baby ruth candy bars for dessert and umbrellas on that rainy summer day and before we left K-Mart, we realized we had spent nearly all our money.
Back on campus, we met some girls who invited us to stay with them for the weekend.
One of the girl's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they called him Bo. He graciously offered us his Pontiac Trans Am to drive around in during our short stay.
Once the weekend was over and after the white bus picked us up along the highway and drove us back to the bible boot camp, we sat around in a circle and told our stories to each other how we learned faith in our unforgettable adventures. Sitting there in a glowing silence, feeling good how we were all protected and learned of God's faith, the leader passed the offering basket around asking us to thank God by putting the $5 back in the basket. We didn't have our $5. So it cost us another $5 to thank God for teaching us faith. Imagine that! $10 dollars. It took me weeks to pay that off.
Fourteen years later, I become best friends with a girl who lives nearly 2,000 miles away from where I live and who somewhere in a conversation, tells me she went to Stephen F. Austin and one of her room-mate's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they just called him Bo. And she talked of some girls staying in the apartment one hot summer weekend and Bo loaning them his blue Trans Am.
Did I learn about faith that weekend when I was 19? No, of course not. But fourteen years later, I DID learn we live in a small world. And I learned more about fate than faith and even though we didn't meet up that weekend and become fast friends, we did so years later.
I guess what I'm tryin' to say is... I believe that some friendships are meant to happen to each other and no matter the time or the place or the distance in years, if its meant to be, it's meant to be. Its the faith in friendships and the fate that brings it altogether that is more powerful than a 3-day outreach on the backroads of East Texas. And this Thanksgiving I am grateful for such a friendship as this.
I wasn't raised religious. I was born catholic and attended catechism when I was small, but my parents pulled us out when the church began charging money for it.
When I was 17 and on a summer vacation traveling across country with my family and friends, I picked up a tattered-up little paperback book and read it while sitting in the back of a Dodge Van traveling somewhere between California and North Carolina.
This lovely book made me see things in an entirely new way and would undoubtedly change me forever. The book was called Mr. God, this is Anna. It's the story of a 5-year-old girl who's found wandering the streets of London who turns out be quite extraordinary and insightful. It hit such a cord with me and so I longed to have that same close friendship with God as she did.
It was because of that book and two years later, I decided to spend my summer at a bible boot camp in East Texas. I was like fish out of water. Everyone carried around leather bound bibles with their names engraved on the cover. I had a paper-back catholic teenage bible called THE WAY that had faces of teenagers inside the words. I didn't know any of the songs they sang, I didn't know how to pray and was confused by bible stories... thought it was Gepetto living in the belly of a whale and who was Jonah.
One morning we were called into a meeting and were told we were going to be put on teams of four and venture off into small towns around East Texas for a long weekend called a "Faith Outreach". We would be entirely on our own with nothing but a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and $5. We had a week to start exercising our faith by praying in $5. We could only use the $5 dollars that came to us in an act of faith.
I prayed for $5 to come in every single day. Every morning when the mail would arrive, I would eagerly check my mailbox and every morning, I came up empty-handed.
A week later, on the morning of the Faith Outreach, I saw the white school bus circle around up the drive to take us on our adventure. But I still hadn't received my $5. I was embarrassed and disappointed and felt foolish having my small overnight bag packed with clothes. I was convinced everyone would see right through me and know I'm not loved by God as much as they were.
"Does everyone have their $5?!"
I felt my face sting from shame. I raised my hand and was relieved to discover a handful of others who also didn't have $5. We were told to bow our heads and pray once more and then go to our mailboxes to find the money. Sure enough, there was an envelope in my box addressed "To Shawn from Jesus" and there was a $5 dollar bill in there. I recognized Roger's handwriting on the envelope.
Off we went on our adventure! I was let off in the oldest town in Texas called Nacodoches near the campus of Stephen F. Austin State University.
Along with three other girls, I stuffed my overnight bag inside the girls' locker room and then walked blocks and blocks down to the K-Mart and ordered All-You-Can-Eat fish sticks for our meal, bought baby ruth candy bars for dessert and umbrellas on that rainy summer day and before we left K-Mart, we realized we had spent nearly all our money.
Back on campus, we met some girls who invited us to stay with them for the weekend.
One of the girl's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they called him Bo. He graciously offered us his Pontiac Trans Am to drive around in during our short stay.
Once the weekend was over and after the white bus picked us up along the highway and drove us back to the bible boot camp, we sat around in a circle and told our stories to each other how we learned faith in our unforgettable adventures. Sitting there in a glowing silence, feeling good how we were all protected and learned of God's faith, the leader passed the offering basket around asking us to thank God by putting the $5 back in the basket. We didn't have our $5. So it cost us another $5 to thank God for teaching us faith. Imagine that! $10 dollars. It took me weeks to pay that off.
Fourteen years later, I become best friends with a girl who lives nearly 2,000 miles away from where I live and who somewhere in a conversation, tells me she went to Stephen F. Austin and one of her room-mate's boyfriend was named Basillio, but they just called him Bo. And she talked of some girls staying in the apartment one hot summer weekend and Bo loaning them his blue Trans Am.
Did I learn about faith that weekend when I was 19? No, of course not. But fourteen years later, I DID learn we live in a small world. And I learned more about fate than faith and even though we didn't meet up that weekend and become fast friends, we did so years later.
I guess what I'm tryin' to say is... I believe that some friendships are meant to happen to each other and no matter the time or the place or the distance in years, if its meant to be, it's meant to be. Its the faith in friendships and the fate that brings it altogether that is more powerful than a 3-day outreach on the backroads of East Texas. And this Thanksgiving I am grateful for such a friendship as this.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Happy Birthday Julie
Today is Julie's birthday.
She is, happily for me, a good friend of mine.
Years ago, in our early twenties, and before she was married to Buddy, she and I travelled around the country in a mazda with a broken-down air conditioner during the summer that lasted several years.
I remember while living in New York City, for a time, we hung out with the then unknown singer/songwriter Shawn Colvin. Shawn had one of those flats that had a toilet in her kitchen. And, I remember Shawn bathing, while I sat on the toilet while Julie heated water for tea at the same time.
Julie and I didn't have much money back then. We'd practically live off a slice of cheese pizza a day.
I remember one time Julie was opening for another band and as we drove through the City, she waved her dress out the window to iron it out.
Another time, while in Tulsa, we were selling records and Julie never felt comfortable selling records. Ever.
And, one day, I offered to write BUY SETS on the back of her eye lids. I really did believe customers would read her message sublimely and buy an entire set of records. Dear sweet Julie truly believed in me. She handed me her eye liner pencil and I wrote BUY on on eye lid and SETS on the other and to this day, still feel a sting in my heart when I remember that day. Within moments, all Julie had were dark smudges around her eyes. And, I don't recall Julie selling a single record because of my bright idea.
Julie is my lifetime friend. She saved me in so many ways. She is my walking angel in my life.
While nearly murdered and lying in a hospital bed in Olympia, Julie rushed to my side and spent the entire night with me before my mom and sister flew up to take care of me.
I flew into Dallas yesterday.
I met Julie in East Texas. Being back here and coupled with her birthday, I can't stop thinking of her. I spent an evening with friends in the outskirts of Dallas tonight in a small town called Midlothian.
Maybe it's the hot summer night. Maybe it's the way the trees grow out here. Or the stars shining so brightly in the night sky. Maybe it's because Midlothian reminds me of a chapter in the bible.
I miss you, Julie. In a very huge way.
May your birthday bring you all the tender joys and magic life can bring.
You live in my heart forever.
Thursday, October 6, 2005
A Friend-Filled Weekend
I spent a few days with some dear close friends this past extended weekend in music-filled San Francisco. They are brilliant, and kind, and creative and entertain me with their unique personalities.
Buddy. Your voice. Your music. Your guitar playing. Breathless.
Thank you for taking time out of your outrageously busy weekend of music festivals and concerts to spend time with me. Your soft heart is beautiful. Please give Julie a hug and tell her I love her and miss her terribly. I wish her endless, painless days and nights.
Rexie. Thank you for your endless kindness and the lifelong friendship we share. Let's get together soon for a light-hearted picnic in the wine country under the warm afternoon sun. You are going to be just fine.
Jon. You are a great friend. Thank you for cooking such a delicious breakfast. Driving with the top down through the hills of San Francisco. Taking different side streets made it seem I saw this beautiful city for the first time. Being with you is easy and effortless; kind and familiar... thank you.
Kamela. An hour spent with you seems like just a minute in time. Your talents still amaze me. You inspire me. Thank you for your giving spirit and leaving me always feeling happy that I, too, am an artist. Please don't forget to slow down and rest when you can.
It's a great thing to have these lasting life-long friends. I don't see you nearly as often as I wish. We once spent time together nearly everyday. Way back when we were human life-preservers for each other ... keeping our chins up; staying afloat. What an adventure it was back then. Splashing through the chilly waves... focusing on survival.
We've all done good. And, stronger because of the storm.
Buddy. Your voice. Your music. Your guitar playing. Breathless.
Thank you for taking time out of your outrageously busy weekend of music festivals and concerts to spend time with me. Your soft heart is beautiful. Please give Julie a hug and tell her I love her and miss her terribly. I wish her endless, painless days and nights.
Rexie. Thank you for your endless kindness and the lifelong friendship we share. Let's get together soon for a light-hearted picnic in the wine country under the warm afternoon sun. You are going to be just fine.
Jon. You are a great friend. Thank you for cooking such a delicious breakfast. Driving with the top down through the hills of San Francisco. Taking different side streets made it seem I saw this beautiful city for the first time. Being with you is easy and effortless; kind and familiar... thank you.
Kamela. An hour spent with you seems like just a minute in time. Your talents still amaze me. You inspire me. Thank you for your giving spirit and leaving me always feeling happy that I, too, am an artist. Please don't forget to slow down and rest when you can.
It's a great thing to have these lasting life-long friends. I don't see you nearly as often as I wish. We once spent time together nearly everyday. Way back when we were human life-preservers for each other ... keeping our chins up; staying afloat. What an adventure it was back then. Splashing through the chilly waves... focusing on survival.
We've all done good. And, stronger because of the storm.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
A Dinner with Bernie
I had dinner with a really old friend tonight.
Not **old**. But a good friend from a long, long time ago.
I called her out of the blue. Seventeen years out of the blue. Because I was thinking of her. And I missed her for some reason.
I had her telephone number still memorized because it is similar to my childhood telephone number. We have a kindred spirit. I decided not to worry that it had been so long ago, and I picked up the phone and dialed before I could think about it. She answered and we chatted for an hour or so and we said "let's get together for dinner some time".
It's one thing to SAY "let's get together" and it's another thing to actually do it. Afterall, it has been 17 years.
WHO has energy to visit someone after 17 years? Heck. If we haven't kept in touch all these years, why start now?
Well. WHY not?
Tonight we did.
It was as if only a week had passed. It was so wonderful. She hadn't aged at all. She talked of her children who have grown into fine adults. Her darling husband called and checked on her as she drove me to my car. We needed so much time to catch up. Three hours had passed but it wasn't enough. I was sad when our get-together was finally over.
I already miss her.
Do me a favor. Friends really are important in one's life.
Never lose touch. If you really have a good friend. Keep in touch. Call them. Arrange for a dinner.
Never pass up a good ole friend, ever.
They are as good as gold.
Not **old**. But a good friend from a long, long time ago.
I called her out of the blue. Seventeen years out of the blue. Because I was thinking of her. And I missed her for some reason.
I had her telephone number still memorized because it is similar to my childhood telephone number. We have a kindred spirit. I decided not to worry that it had been so long ago, and I picked up the phone and dialed before I could think about it. She answered and we chatted for an hour or so and we said "let's get together for dinner some time".
It's one thing to SAY "let's get together" and it's another thing to actually do it. Afterall, it has been 17 years.
WHO has energy to visit someone after 17 years? Heck. If we haven't kept in touch all these years, why start now?
Well. WHY not?
Tonight we did.
It was as if only a week had passed. It was so wonderful. She hadn't aged at all. She talked of her children who have grown into fine adults. Her darling husband called and checked on her as she drove me to my car. We needed so much time to catch up. Three hours had passed but it wasn't enough. I was sad when our get-together was finally over.
I already miss her.
Do me a favor. Friends really are important in one's life.
Never lose touch. If you really have a good friend. Keep in touch. Call them. Arrange for a dinner.
Never pass up a good ole friend, ever.
They are as good as gold.
Wednesday, June 1, 2005
Uprooting and Replanting of Friendships
My dear friends are breaking up.
More than twenty years together.
Their names roll off my lips as easily as saying "Laurel and Hardy". Now, I need to curl my tongue in a different way to add the new name that has been added--and attached--to one of them.
I feel sad. It feels wrong like wearing slippers on the wrong feet.
My mom points to these lovely trees in her yard. The limbs are turning yellow. "See that?" She points out. "That tree is dying. I need to take it down".
I see dead parts of it and it makes me sad. Her home was built in 1850. Our family has lived there since 1970. Those trees have loved and embraced that house she now lives in for many, many years. It saddens me to see it be taken down. I feel it has protected the house. And whenever I see the home, I see the tree. I cannot imagine one without the other.
This relationship of my friends is reminding me of this tree.
If you ask either one, they would say they were very happy together. No red flares. No warning signs. Life with each other was a dream. Just "someone else" gave extra attention to one of them, and then.. "that person" reciprocated.
For awhile, I felt numb. Surely, this is a phase ... I would convince myself. We would still hang out together on warm summer evenings. Still hold on to our inside jokes. We would keep our annual vacation trips to tropical islands or fun, exciting roadtrips.
We'd still laugh and say, "remember when...?" and we would. And we'd laugh as we felt the warmth of our friendship and make plans for our future and growing old together.
I realize people go through this everyday. The uprooting is so common among so many people. I'm not sure why the upheaval feels so fresh and so volatile to me.
But then again, a tree doesn't grow its roots all at once. The roots slowly creep deeper and wider with each passing day. Eventually, their hold onto the earth is so strong, it can withstand the strongest of winds or the soaking of the wettest storms. When, this doesn't happen anymore.. it feels so unsettling. A limb falling here. And there. The leaves turning yellow. It doesn't feel as strong or secure as it once was.
Today I am wearing two signs on my heart. For now, they say: "NO TRESPASSING" and "KEEP OUT". I know, in time, those signs will go down.
I love my friends no-matter-what. My heart will expand and grow with them and the partners they seek after, and, because it's a beating heart and a beating heart must continually pump out life, a new sign will hang in its place.
It will read "ENTER AT OWN RISK".
Only this time, I will turn the sign around toward me.
And the risk will be mine.
More than twenty years together.
Their names roll off my lips as easily as saying "Laurel and Hardy". Now, I need to curl my tongue in a different way to add the new name that has been added--and attached--to one of them.
I feel sad. It feels wrong like wearing slippers on the wrong feet.
My mom points to these lovely trees in her yard. The limbs are turning yellow. "See that?" She points out. "That tree is dying. I need to take it down".
I see dead parts of it and it makes me sad. Her home was built in 1850. Our family has lived there since 1970. Those trees have loved and embraced that house she now lives in for many, many years. It saddens me to see it be taken down. I feel it has protected the house. And whenever I see the home, I see the tree. I cannot imagine one without the other.
This relationship of my friends is reminding me of this tree.
If you ask either one, they would say they were very happy together. No red flares. No warning signs. Life with each other was a dream. Just "someone else" gave extra attention to one of them, and then.. "that person" reciprocated.
For awhile, I felt numb. Surely, this is a phase ... I would convince myself. We would still hang out together on warm summer evenings. Still hold on to our inside jokes. We would keep our annual vacation trips to tropical islands or fun, exciting roadtrips.
We'd still laugh and say, "remember when...?" and we would. And we'd laugh as we felt the warmth of our friendship and make plans for our future and growing old together.
I realize people go through this everyday. The uprooting is so common among so many people. I'm not sure why the upheaval feels so fresh and so volatile to me.
But then again, a tree doesn't grow its roots all at once. The roots slowly creep deeper and wider with each passing day. Eventually, their hold onto the earth is so strong, it can withstand the strongest of winds or the soaking of the wettest storms. When, this doesn't happen anymore.. it feels so unsettling. A limb falling here. And there. The leaves turning yellow. It doesn't feel as strong or secure as it once was.
Today I am wearing two signs on my heart. For now, they say: "NO TRESPASSING" and "KEEP OUT". I know, in time, those signs will go down.
I love my friends no-matter-what. My heart will expand and grow with them and the partners they seek after, and, because it's a beating heart and a beating heart must continually pump out life, a new sign will hang in its place.
It will read "ENTER AT OWN RISK".
Only this time, I will turn the sign around toward me.
And the risk will be mine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
