I have a confession to make.
Last night I was checking the traffic to my blog and followed one visitor’s referral link back to a blog I didn’t recognize. At first I was confused why a link to my blog would be here. Then I began to put it together and realized it was the website of a couple with whom we were friends in Mississippi. I finally found the link to my blog along with this introduction: “A friend that used to live in MS has a blog about her new life in Vermont, a move back home for her. They are cool people and we miss them a lot but I guess they’ve moved on to better things.” (Thanks, Tim… you’re cool people yourself!) He goes on to say that although he does miss his home state, as long as he has friends, “you’ve got the most perfect place on earth.”
That’s hard to hear.
I haven’t acknowlegded (in this forum) something very important about our 3 years in Mississippi: Friends.
For the first time in my life when I planned a party I had a list of guests, guests who showed up, who stayed late and with whom we had laughs, tears (not at the party, thankfully), and meaningful conversations. With these same friends we had lunch and drinks out on the town, shared Thanksgiving dinner, and threw baby showers and children’s birthday parties.
Friends became the norm. Now we don’t have them. And I thought I was OK.
But I’m not.
My days are running into each other with no anticipation of fun. The little screen on my phone never lights up with just a first name. I have no other woman to gripe to, no other mom to sympathize with. No one to meet at the coffee shop.
I keep in touch with close friends in various parts of the country, and even in England where I grew up, but I never knew just how vital it is to have friends right on your door step until they weren’t there anymore.