We became friends via Facebook messages. It was many months before we exchanged actual email addresses, but our relationship was already solidified. Geographical distance and separate social circles allowed us to vent freely about our respective young-adult struggles. Timezones usually kept our schedules from aligning, so we would swap long voicemails, usually recorded during our commutes or lunchbreaks.
Now, she lives in Canada, and I have a daughter. Neither of us have the same co-workers anymore; I married into the military, and she traded politics for photography.
A mixture of IM, Skype, Google Voice, email, and only the occasional phone call keep us close now. But sometimes, if we're very lucky, we get to visit each other.
I chatter, and she snaps photos that look realer than life. We eat cobbler, discuss clothing, brainstorm about travel, and laugh about the differences between girls and guys.
I told her that this trip was for her. That I would come visit her new home, and we could explore together. Go to the beach. Scout out the malls. Test the lighting in old buildings, for future photo shoots. I would come to her this time - it was my turn.
But really, this trip was just as much for me. It's truly hard doing life without my husband. It's tough trying to stay close to him through brief, scheduled talks - in which you can't say much, either for security reasons or because you don't want to burden the other.
Nothing can compensate for the lack of My Person. However, there are few things as comforting as an old friend who knows you well, who prays for you specifically, who doesn't blink when you admit your flaws.
And morale rose for both of us, as we inhaled ocean air, navigated new roads, and reminded each other of all the times God has been faithful so far in our lives; surely, He will help us through this, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment