Even though I only attended college with her for one year, and it was BC (Before cellphones or computers), we were constant pen pals. We were kindred spirits -- so much alike. (We marry opposites, but aren't our deepest friends more like us than not?)
After her wedding while I was still single, our relationship changed. She had "the one" and her time was spent cultivating her marriage garden, and rightly so. Our relationship wasn't a priority. Or, maybe I was just too needy, like a nasty dandelion weed pushing my way in and around everywhere. Who knows. Either way, rocky days prevailed. When I married three or four years later, she wasn't in my wedding party as I had been in hers. But, she was there in the background. That movement towards me was the start of the renewing of our friendship. After I had a child and while she struggled with fertility, our friendship waned again. I was heartbroken, but truth be told I was cultivating the family garden and I was a prickly thorn, piercing her unintentionally along the way.
Years later, after Harrison was born, we reconnected. Both of us "settled in", and with the advent of technology to help, we were able to stay better connected. Today our friendship is stronger than ever. I love what Ann Voskamp says:
"Friendships never just happen — they are forged."
There were times when one of us didn't "forge" and we hurt the other. Fortunately for us, it went both ways. We were able to forgive the other because we'd done the same. We figured out our relationship was important and we both began to forge.
It takes two people forging to do the friendship tango.
(that's a Cathy original. Ann Voskamp, you can use it if you want)
Harrison is about to learn about forging for a friendship, and I'm about to be given a chance to forge differently in this season.
Julie and I were co-workers at Capin Crouse. She was an auditor, much younger than me and she traveled frequently for her job, meeting new people in each city and landed just long enough to turn in her expense report, have dinner with a group of friends, and fly off again. We were friendly co-workers, but nothing more. Thirteen years ago, about the time I was leaving Capin Crouse, she and her new husband moved to Franklin. Slowly her Sunday night soups won me over and we became friends... many would say best friends.
Our boys have grown up together and despite not going to school together, would say they are "best friends". When Julie introduces me to someone who doesn't know me or our connection, she'll always tell the story of Harrison figuring out that it was odd that he and Oscar are best friends because so are their Moms. Julie and I unofficially appointed them "best friends" at Harrison's birth 11 months after Oscar's, but they've grown into the role at their own choice -- fighting and loving like biological brothers. Oscar has spent more nights at our house than any house except his own in the past 11 and a half years.
And, like our sons, over the years there has been plenty of fighting and loving -- like biological sisters for Julie and I. We've always been there for each other. And, when I say "there" I mean within a half mile of each other in our small town -- a stone's throw away, as they say.
I'm her Yoda -- always there to provide big sister advice whenever she wants it, and many times just when she needs it. We've share the "lovebird" special at the movies - the movies our husband wouldn't appreciate. We've known each others kitchen and shared many meals together. We've vacationed together and studied God's word together. When I've needed a spot for extra family members, it's her house. When she's needed a place to drop her kids for four days, it's my house. When I've needed to borrow fancy china, or a serving bowl, she's been my first call.
She's an extrovert, and I am not. She's the life of any party and always has too many things/people on her plate (ahem - well, that's this introvert's belief -- one she wouldn't share). I stick close to those I know. She's a home-schooling Mom who opened a toy store. Then, when she decided to be a career woman again, she set her heart on the French toy company she wanted to work for and strategically placed herself where she'd get noticed and win her dream position. I'm happy in my small home office with the clicking of the keyboard as I support the financial needs of others and tend to my small (but important) world.
In nine days the Wells' time in Franklin ends as they move to Ft. Lauderdale Florida for her career. These last nine days are the beginning of the end of this Franklin chapter, of living life together in real life.
Technology will make it easier to keep in contact - but we all know it will be oh so different. Our boys won't go to proms together or share impromptu play dates or sleepovers. I won't be able to call Julie up when the latest chick flick comes out and say "want to share a lovebird special at 10 pm?" When I throw a party, I'll have to beg extra kitchenware from another friend. It's all slowly been changing for a while as we grow and mature differently, but this is really the beginning of the end of this period in our life.
For the extroverted Wells' it will be relatively unnoticeable in the warmth of the Florida sun, as they spend weekends together bicycling the short path to the beach. They, after all, are moving to a city with new adventures, new friends, beautiful weather, and the Atlantic Ocean as their backyard. We are left here with a large hole in our Franklin life.
Tomorrow night our families gather one last time to break bread -- or, in our case chips and salsa. We'll laugh and we'll cry as we share the albums I created for the boys of their lives to date. We'll remember. And, ultimately, I know, it will end with a promise to "forge" on to keep our friendships going.
It's the beginning of the end of this chapter. What happens in the next depends on the forging --- the forging work of four individual people in two unique relationships. Two moms and two sons. In our case:
It takes four people forging to do the friendship tango.
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