An Old Friend Called Today...

After lunch today, I was plugging along with menu planning and looking at the calendar for next week when my very oldest friend called. Technically, we've known each other since we were toddlers. I think we have actual memories from about age 4.
She found me recently on facebook, and we've been chatting here and there - but we have not had a real conversation in years. We grew up together, but we grew in different directions - went to different schools, had different sets of friends and all that. We always attended church together, though, and throughout the 30 years that I lived in my hometown our lives would connect, then separate, off and on. I think you just expect people like that to always be part of your life. No rush to do things, no urgency to call her right away. Then suddenly it's been years, and you find yourself wondering one day, "I wonder what she's doing these days?" I don't think you ever completely forget about those people you grew up with. (Well, you might TRY to forget some of them... there are those, unfortunately). :)

Anyway, I knew that my friend's mother had died a few years ago, and I knew they were close. Her mom was one of those moms at church who were always around, and it was weird even for me, living way over here, to think about her not being there anymore. My friend's birthday is two days before mine, and every year I would think about her, and wish her a happy birthday in my mind, and feel a twinge of sadness for her because I knew she would be missing her mom on that day especially.

And thanks to the modern miracle of facebook, we have reconnected. Oh, it was so fun! We are still busy laughing about this and that event from childhood, this little thing we used to say, this place we used to hang out at, or that little toy we used to play with. So many things we've almost forgotten, but not quite. Time is funny, it slows to a crawl sometimes, then speeds up at others... and sometimes it seems to have stopped altogether, just long enough to let you pick up where you left off with someone.

As it turns out, she just lives about 45 minutes from my house. She has had 2 more children since I've seen her, and SO MUCH has transpired in her life. It was very good to talk to her on today, a day that smelled just a bit like fall to me, with the promise of change in the air. As we said goodbye, she said, "Jennifer, you're just the same as always..." and of course, she was the same, too - but we both knew that in some deeper way, we aren't either of us the same.
For one, we are both a lot humbler thanks to the cruel graces of hard knocks and learned lessons - and CHILDREN - 3 apiece to be exact! We are a lot more tired, less zealous, considerably mellowed, glued to home, and happy with all of it. We have learned to accept what is and what is not. We laughed at our younger selves and shared hope for the future of our children. She has always made me laugh, and I was smiling today as I hung up the phone. I'm so glad she called. I hope that I can prove to be as gracious as she has become.

We talked about family, and how everyone is doing. My friend is the oldest of 4, with 3 brothers that I had not heard news of in quite some time, so that was fun to catch up with them through her. We talked about her mom, and how much she misses her, and I tried to really listen and understand when she said, "You cannot imagine it before it happens, how much you miss them when they aren't there... you just always think your mom will be there, forever... and (laughing) I don't care how much she got on my nerves sometimes, I would take ALL of it again if I could..."

Tonight I heard this song, and I remember reading in Amy Grant's book that she wrote it thinking about her aunt, who was missing her son so very much after he left home. It's called "Missing You."

Missing You
Your smile lights up a room
Like a candle in the dark
It warms me through and through
And I guess that I had dreamed
We would never be apart
But that dream did not come true

And missing you is just a part of living
Missing you feels like a way of life
I’m living out the life that I’ve been given
But baby I still wish you were mine

And I cannot hear the telephone
Jangle on the wall
And not feel a hopeful thrill
And I cannot help but smile
At any news of you at all
And I guess I always will

Cause missing you is just a part of living
And missing you feels like a way of life
I’m living out the life that I’ve been given
But baby I still wish you were mine

Missing you is just a part of living
And missing you feels like a way of life
I’m living out the life I’ve been given
But baby I still wish you were mine
I’m living out the life that I’ve been given
But baby I still wish you were mine


Tonight I'm feeling a little bit stupid for treating such precious gifts as family and friends as if they were on my DVR's "to do list" and I could simply click "keep" to enjoy at a later, more convenient time. I feel pulled in SO MANY directions and it seems impossible to store up enough memory for another day. The reality is, it's never going to be enough, once the people who have made up my lifetime's worth of memories start to fade away.

What comforts me, however, is hearing a happy voice at the other end of the line - knowing that my friends and family members are living a happy life over there, wherever they are. Or maybe they aren't happy at the moment, but they are learning and growing. Yes, that is pretty comforting.

I'm a mother myself, and I can understand those lyrics, "I guess that I had dreamed we would never be apart..." There are some days when I actually do dream of it, but I can't imagine it, if you know what I mean! The only reason that I do dream of being alone is that I don't think I really believe it's going to happen anytime soon. :) Still, I know there will be a day when I will feel a "hopeful thrill" when the telephone jangles. And I'll smile like a silly fool just to hear their voices...
But each season has its joys, and it's "givens." Today's is just one kind of joy. There are others, waiting, and I look forward to them all.


Still, I am going to try to do better, MOM.
I'm so glad Al Gore invented the internet, aren't you? :)