2008-05-05

These are the days of our lives

Earlier today, I was IM'ing with a good friend who lives on the other side of the country, and I was asking her advice about another friend, whom she's never met. More specifically, how I should be responding to a particular situation in which I find myself regarding this friend. A situation that has slowly devolved and become potentially insurmountable to our friendship, unless we suddenly are able to turn back the hands of time. I'm still working on that Master of Time, Space, and Dimension thing.

Then later I was talking on the phone (sooooo last millennium *yawn*) to another friend who also lives far away, about another friend who lives even further away. This phone conversation revolved around our concern for this friend and his declining mental and physical health. We spoke for nearly an hour, while his friends in the background chastised him for not hanging up and enjoying a Cinqo de Mayo drink with them.

(I must stop right here and emphasize that both of these conversations revolved around helping the party about whom we were speaking...this wasn't just idle gossip, people...it was very, very busy and industrious gossip.)

Anyway, these two conversations left me feeling strangely happy yet unsettled.

I love that I have friends in my life, however frequently we talk, that are part of my chosen, extended family. I revel in the fact that our stories are woven together inextricably, and that the fabric that is created will keep us warm in our coldest moments, and serve as a hammock when we want to kick back and relax.

But these two conversations today also reminded me of others that were once a large part of my life whose thread, for whatever reason, frayed away forever from the fabric that is my story.

And I worry that the two people about whom we spoke will also, one day, be a part of my history instead of my present.

6 comments:

  1. Sadly...I've experienced this very recently with someone who has been my best friend since middle school. We were honor attendants in each other's weddings. She has twins 2 months older than my triplets...all conceived via IVF (so we even shared the heartache of infertility). I still cannot believe that a friendship so deep could just vanish. And yet...we've only talked once in a year. I've got this huge void in my life now. And it makes me very sad.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I just posted about a similar situation today...certainly not as gracefully and tactfully as you have. But it's nice to know I'm not totally alone.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think that friends come and go, as much as we want them to be family and always be close - they can't be.

    True friends will be friends with you forever even if you don't live nearby and your lives are intertwined. You'll always be able to lean on them when you need them or share in your joy. I know it's not the same but if you kept every great friend you've had it is possible that the task of keeping up with them would become too daunting with a family.

    I was feeling a little sad in the same way the other night when my best friend called to tell me she thought she had the worst flu ever but found out that she was pregnant. I cried because I wanted to be there with her to go through it. To hold her baby when it's fresh and newborn like. Sigh.

    Why can't the people we love stay near us? It's unfortunate.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I have great friends, that due to time and space we just don't keep in touch. I often think of them and mourn our relationship. But, at the same time, all I am left with are good memories. Those should count for something.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Friends of our past are almost always never lost - they remain present with us in our hearts. Though relationships evolve, love endures. It's a beautiful system.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Please work on that space time continuum thing. It would really help me out.

    Some friends aren't good at distance. Some friends aren't good at being close. It is often hard for me to accept these facts and just roll with it.

    Life, ugh.

    ReplyDelete

Brilliant observations: