Friends and neighbors

I still find each day too short 
for all the thoughts I want to think,
all the walks I want to take,
all the books I want to read,

and all the friends I want to see.

                                                  ~ John Burroughs

These strange days of isolating while the coronavirus floats its potentially-deadly droplets into the atmosphere, I find I am missing my friends and casual get-togethers terribly. Facetime and Zoom may be better than nothing but are poor substitutes for sharing a cup of coffee across the table from a friend.

I've been thinking about friendships in general, and the interesting, varied and sometimes even strange ways in which friends meet. There are the obvious such as one's own siblings, cousins and co-workers. With any luck, you are blessed with friendships from these groups. My own BFF is from high school, another obvious group for that age. Together she and I have celebrated weddings and showers, shared child-raising, empty nests, joys and sorrows. In addition to this cherished friendship, high school brought me and my best friend into a foursome group of friends still close to this day. And no, I won't divulge how many years that has been. 

One of our annual get-together lunches.

But there are the not-so-obvious ways we connect and in which close and long-time friendships are formed. 

Neighbors can just be neighbors, or close friendships can be formed which in my case turned out to be a lifeline. When we lived in Ohio in the early 1970s and my husband's job involved traveling, I developed a medical condition that caused me to sometimes lose consciousness. My neighbor, Sandy, who I already considered a friend, came across the street to check on me every morning. If she saw I wasn't well and needed rest, she scooped up my two kiddos and took them home with her until I was able to get them. Another neighbor became a lifelong friend and I am Godmother to her first-born son. And another neighbor in our condominium resulted in a very strong bond though she has since moved away.

Many years ago, there was an AOL site where you could post an inquiry and get responses. I was researching for a story about my maternal grandmother from Sweden who met my grandfather when he was in the Danish Merchant Marine. Although I had postcards he wrote to her from the ship he was on, sailing the world over, I had no idea what he did or indeed what the Merchant Marine was.

So I posted an inquiry hoping to learn more and received a response from Shelly in Queens, New York. She was researching as well, hoping to learn about her birth parents since she was adopted as a twin infant. I told her my birthplace was New York and that led to us chatting back and forth. Oftentimes these chats just end naturally when the subject of the inquiry is exhausted. But not with me and Shelly. We became friends and our friendship grew beyond our research resulting in several visits to see her in New York, sharing visits to South Street Seaport, Broadway musicals and trudging though a December blizzard holding my luggage up to miss the snowbanks.

And who would think riding the city bus, of all things, would bring a dear friend? It's how I met Laura. We waited at the bus stop together every morning on our way to work, striking up a conversation, then another and another, leading to a dinner invitation at her home. Retired now, we have remained friends.

And simply by offering to recommend a travel service following our 2004 trip to Czech Republic, I received an email from a woman named Sharon in Iowa, asking why or why not she and her husband should book a tour with this particular agency. There was a certain chemistry in our exchanges of information that blossomed naturally into a strong friendship. We meet when we can, sometimes along with our husbands, though they live in Iowa and we are in Minnesota. Last summer, we visited with them in their gorgeous home.

Then there are Facebook groups. Since I am an avid cross-stitcher, I joined a group of stitchers whose love of primitive stitching is what we have in common. There I met Barb. Barb lives in the birthplace of my paternal grandfather in St. Ansgar, Iowa. We started sharing messages about her town, our stitching projects and everyday life. Somehow we were magically drawn to each other like a magnet. She is my most encouraging friend in every way and is there to be my rock when I need one. Hopefully I am that for her as well. We connect by messaging often and meeting at least once a year. 

So friends are found in both likely and unlikely places if you are open to looking. A spark can grow between two people and you'll end up not knowing what you ever did without them.

Are we going to be friends forever? Asked Piglet.
Even longer, Pooh answered. 

👭

As always, thank you for reading and allowing me to share my thoughts.