Meeting with Old Friends

I had lunch today with an old friend, and she told me when she got to the restaurant that she almost called to cancel. She didn't want to "bring me down." Her sister-in-law is in the final stages of cancer, at the age of forty-four. Her passing will leave her sons, eleven and thirteen, motherless. It's very sad, and my friend is consumed with grief. This woman has been my friend for about thirty years, and we've managed to stay in touch despite our geographical distance. When I first moved to Florida, she used to visit at least once each year. Then she started having her own health problems and wasn't able to travel as much.

I'm glad she didn't cancel. As much as I try to stay positive and prefer to share good news, I realize it's also important to have friends with whom I (and those friends) can share burdens and, whether the other person is able to say or do anything tangible to help, sometimes it's helpful just to get it out. With those kinds of close friends, you can say anything without fear of judgment; you can complain about a situation without sounding whiny.

On Tuesday I'm meeting with my oldest and best friend. She's taking the day off work so we can hang out and is then driving me to the airport. She and I are similar in our approach to life, although she would be the first to tell you she isn't always as nice to people as I am. I don't take much crap off people, but she takes none. Motherhood has mellowed her in some ways, but in others it has only served to make her more fierce. I love having a long history with a friend, especially this one. Our conversations often consist of half-sentences, and I imagine that anyone else who hears us talking thinks we're speaking in some kind of shorthand. We have been through so much in the forty years we've known each other.

Ideally, I would have had time to visit more friends and (especially) family members. Once again, the time has flown by and the worst part is that I'll leave without fulfilling my mission of getting the house on the market. I've felt thwarted at every turn. I'm thinking I may come up again at the end of September. That trip will focus more on time with friends and family, and little or none on dealing with that disaster of a house. That will be a nice trip.