What'cha Doin'?

I guess with age comes the loss of things. Most notably friends. Lives change, people change, goals change, heck, even our personalities change. I’ve lost eight friends in the 21st century and, even though I’m sure it’s natural and the way God intended, every ending has stung a bit.

Last night, I woke up from a sound sleep at 3:18 AM thinking of one former friend in particular. Now, of course, I will worry about her for days and never know why.

There were signs that year that things were going to end. She was busy, and I think I became more of an obligation. We had less in common and were growing apart. I think we both knew it was time. We didn’t exactly lose touch, as they say, we just stopped all forms of communication. There was no talk about it, no warning about it, it just happened. Our last conversation was Thanksgiving Day 2006.

At the time, I thought it was especially bad timing, because she had recently won somewhat of a genetic lotto. Her father sold his business, and each of his three kids received millions of dollars. To this day, I’m afraid she may think the friendship ended because of money. Ironically, we had a lengthy conversation not too long before about how she’d soon find out who her real friends were.

Looking back on it, though, God knew what he was doing and ended this relationship at the perfect time. There’s no way we could have lasted. I’m a single mom, working multiple jobs, saving, paying for college. In a nutshell, she’s not. I would not have reacted well in any conversation about grand vacations and surgeries and jewelry and days, weeks, months, years with little to no responsibilities. I was happy for her, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think I would have been able to appreciate the details. I’m probably wrong and small for that, but maybe I get points for honesty. Plus, I'm awfully glad I didn't have the opportunity to embarrass myself.  

She was so important to me during the divorce from my father. She made jokes at all the right times. We came up with elaborate and hilarious schemes for his (and his wife’s) demise (yes, two middle-aged women sitting in a parking lot planning all sorts of Fargo-type things) . She just sat there in silent and supportive agreement when I busted out in uncontrollable crying in the middle of one conversation I’ll never forget. She made the hurt of it all more bearable, and she made me feel validated and like I mattered when I knew I didn’t. Heck, even her mother got on board, and she was sure to let me know that at least one parent on the planet wuv’d me! I like to think I was a good friend during her nasty separation and divorce from her ex-husband and oodles of recurring family drama.

She was funny, sharp as a tack, and the most effortlessly kind-hearted person I know. I hope she’s well and happy and enjoying her life, her son, her new house and her family. I miss her. And I know it’s the way it’s meant to be.

But I do wonder what she might have been up to at 3:18 AM.