Sharing Saturday
A number of weeks ago I wrote about the loss of a long-time, important friendship. Today, I have the happy chance to write about the pleasure, honor and soul-satisfaction of seeing an old friend.
Hopefully, we all have them, friends with whom we have traveled through life. Despite the bounty of wonderful and important friends I've made in my true adult years, I also have the short list – those friends who have known me since way back when.
The ones who knew my parents, in some cases, before they were divorced (hi, Avis!) Who knew me as I struggled through my mother's departure in high school (I know you're there, Scott and Mona. )Who lived through my travails of love lost and found in college (shout out to Diane and Renee.) And the one who had the true pleasure of living with me through the most depressed and difficult state of my life and who, miraculously, still talks to me (kisses to Rebecca.)
That's it, that's the list. Most everyone else has arrived later in my life, has only known me as a happily married adult, a mom, a member of a synagogue, a satisfied, self-employed consultant, a traveler to and lover of Israel, a blogger, and someone who is looking forward to the next decades of my life with great anticipation and joy.
My friends today didn't know me when the girls teased me and tried to cornrow my hair in 4th grade. For my high school perm. During my Annie Hall phase. When I arrived at Union College and felt like I didn’t belong. When the farthest I had traveled was to my grandma's house for Easter. During the years of tragic heartbreak in my quixotic search for someone to love me. When I did things that were dangerous, self destructive and stupid. After I got mugged in Brooklyn. When I broke a man's heart who deserved much better.
When I made the scary move to a new city where I had but one friend and an apartment all to myself, which felt like heaven on earth and turned out to be the best decision of my life.
But the list of six did. And they are the ones who have shown up, over and over, when life requires it. When I met Jonathan and suddenly needed bridesmaids and a photographer. When Ari died and Diane and Renee left their one-month old babies at home to fly in and be at my side. When my oldest son had his bar mitzvah. When my mother died. When I need to laugh. When I need to cry.
We all live in far flung cities – Chicago, Tampa, Minneapolis, New York, Washington. It's not often that we travel to see each other. But occasionally, there is that special moment when it comes together. Last week, just when my soul needed a little nurturing, Diane arrived in Washington with her family, and we stole a day together.
And what a day it was! We never stopped talking. We had so much to share, it was as if we had never left each other (and I still have unanswered questions, like how does she feel about a middle aged woman contemplating a tattoo?)
This is true of each of the six friends I list above – no matter how many years roll by, we pick up where we left off and love each other anew.
One of the blessings of growing older is to have the life under your belt that you can look back on, sometimes with great satisfaction, sometimes with great sadness, sometimes with absolute horror. The friends who have been with you through those experiences put a stamp of authenticity on them. They remind you of who you were and where you have been. They remind you that life is comprised mainly of small moments of connection and exploration, and that the big moments, whether they are crises or joy-filled, need to be marked, celebrated, delineated. That it's all about showing up.
It's hard to find time and energy to maintain long-distance friendships. It's easy to get caught up in the minutiae of everyday life. But these six friendships transcend the distance. They are my anchors in a stormy world, and we are going to grow old together.
Image by qthomasbower via Flickr.
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