I've often thought during my nearly 30 years as an adult that I had no friends. No one close. No one for whom I could make soups for when they were sick. No one to laugh about the silly little nonsensical things about which friends laugh. No one who knows my history and whose history I know. And on days during which I'm hovering dangerously close to depression, the notion of being friendless is nearly overwhelming.
But there are days like today. When I ask a friend, a colleague about her family visiting from Brazil because I know them. We had lunch together last summer. Her mom thought of me when reading a Non Sequitur and she knows that I love goats and dogs. We may not know each other yet from back then but who says that back then has to start in high school? Maybe our back then will start last summer or two years ago when we met?
Another friend brought me a coffee and a pastry the morning after I learned that I didn't get the job I wanted. And yet another called me at home to be sure I was alright. And still another invited me out for coffee and to let me know in her way of just being there, that she was there for me.
I don't have friends? Not true. So not true. I may not have friends from back in my high school days but slowly my friends and I are building a history together.
"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, What! You too? I thought I was the only one." C.S. Lewis