What's the value of a good friend? Immeasurable. Timeless. Priceless.
I started out my life as a social butterfly. Back then, they didn't have categories for those kinds of things, at least not where I grew up. You were not pigeonholed as being "extroverted" or "introverted" or given labels like ENFP or ISTJ. Not many people pondered their bellybuttons like we do now. They just lived, survived, plugged on through. Or not. When my first day of school started, I was scared but quickly got over it. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. All those people! There were new adventures and lots of children my age to get to know and play with. We had the coolest teacher ever, Mrs. Bell. She was beautiful and fun, but had just the right amount of attitude to keep us in line. She wore white go-go boots. Best of all, she'd play records and let us dance on top of chairs before class started. The early years gave way to high school, where my hankering for socializing found plenty of outlets. I breezed through my studies, but was totally dismayed when I got to college and figured out that I was going to have to study instead of fraternize. This did not go well for me.
I began to understand that there are levels of friendship. Acquaintances, casual friends, temporary ones you meet on vacation, some you like, others you tolerate, and then those you dearly love. Sometimes that happens in a micro-second, almost like love at first sight. Souls are instantly bonded for life. I remember something my Sunday School teacher of many years told us -- that no matter how many "friends" you think you have, you will procure, at the most, a handful of the most intimate ones, and usually just one or two. I have found this to be true. When life hits you like a train and there's desperate venting, grieving or crying to be done, there are only a few people that can fill that bill. It's when we are at our crabbiest, creepiest, most sinful that we can rest on that kind of pal. They accept you no matter what. And you can weather insanely difficult storms, even when you might hurt one other.
Then there's the next level, a larger group, which I call my island friends. These are the ones that are kindred souls. We link easily. We love each other. We are all very busy with our own lives, too busy it seems. We wave across the water, not getting disturbed that we can't be all up in each others' business all the time. Once in awhile, sometimes often, sometimes not, we will get in our boats and paddle across to each other. We'll eat or drink something, spend a few hours, and the months or years melt away and it's like we've not missed a beat. These are precious treasures, not to be taken for granted.
This weekend, my daughter and I were able to pull our boats up alongside two of my old friends (old as in, we were really young when we first become acquainted, mind you) as well as their daughters. It was Friday night. Some of us were late, several had been at work that day, so we straggled in for pizza and salad, then succumbed to popcorn and ice cream. Everyone was relaxed and even tired, but in short order we were sharing and then laughing uncontrollably. As I looked around the table I thought of all the different scenarios represented there.... seasoned marriages, a divorce, college graduations, a baby on the way, new jobs, grandbabies' names on charm bracelets, fresh wings finding their way and then old wings finding new horizons. We're all so busy, tied up with more life than we know what to do with....but in those few hours we were lucky to bind our boats and our hearts together. In musing about it tonight, I have to wonder what God's got for us in eternity. I have to believe that what goes on down here has a direct connection to the future. He's weaving. Meanwhile I'm singin' a peppy little reggae tune...
Rosemarie Norton is an artist, decorative painter and real estate agent who lives on Magnolia Street in Villa Rica. She loves to write. Thus, "Magnolia Rose" was born. Visit her online atrosemariesembellishments.com
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