Sunday, October 02, 2011
I was sending a long email to a friend last night and I got to thinking about friendships. How hard they are to maintain for some when geographical distances come between and how easy for others who pick up the phone or toss off an email or post on your FB wall or as as a few of my friends and I do, send each other cards or interesting articles from magazines and newspapers. Watering the landscape of friendship. Supportive and loving.
With my move to Newfoundland, I knew which friendships would survive and which ones would perish. And most survived. And one I valued very highly didn't. But I had known it wouldn't due to the lack of effort she made with the long distance gardening tools. No calls initialized, no comments on FB, no letters or emails: no plantings in the garden of friendship in other words. It was left to wither and die.
This new remoteness was further underlined when we took a flight to Europe together (I'd paid extra to fly to Toronto to be with her and catch up on our chat both ways) and on the way back she chose not to sit with me. I still don't understand it. When actions come from a place I wouldn't tread, I am baffled. And mightily hurt.
All part of the shifting landscapes of friendship, I suppose. When actions cease to be out of love and become out of a desire to hurt or punish. To uproot.
I am lucky with the friends who sustain me and love me. And tell me so. As I tell them. It is important that we break down our own false barrier of pride and reach out and say "I miss you", "You are dear to me", "Our friendship is important", "I love you", otherwise how do we know?
I've just renewed a long ago friendship with someone who vanished into the bowels of the USA many years ago. I found her in FB, and she had been searching for me too and had even found my daughter but was too shy to barge right in and e-announce herself.
We knew each other back when. Our twenty-two year old dreams shining on our hopeful faces, making the huge nose-holding leap to sail the Atlantic and find fresh dreams and leave that repressive, strangleheld Ireland behind us. I am so glad we found each other. I would think of her often.
But the old landscapes stay fresh in our memories too. Even if it is just to remind us of how we used to be and never to lose that self. No. Never lose it.