Several months ago, I had a short relationship, certainly more of a friendship than a serious relationship, with a very nice woman going through the final stages of a painful divorce. Our connection was predicated on conversations and coffee more than anything else. (“Our song” was Espresso Myself by Carol Zimmerman.) Besides the lovely hours we shared in coffee shops and open-all-night restaurants, we also spent countless hours on late night phone calls together. When she learned my cell phone had a costly pay-as-you-go plan, she kindly provided to me an extra phone she happened to have under her own plan, which included 3000 hours of shared anytime minutes per month. This, along with my discovery of Blue-Tooth, was total phone heaven for me.
When she unexpectedly dropped me for someone else, I think she felt so badly for hurting me, that she volunteered to let me continue to use the phone for a while. I admit, pride should have made me return it, but I didn’t. And when I left for Florida to assist my father who broke his hip, she insisted I keep the phone so that I could more easily stay connected with my family and friends in Minnesota. The phone was indeed a very appreciated life-line for me. And when I returned to Minnesota, she finally hinted for it back, but once again, insisted I keep it until I got a new phone. I finally sent the phone back to her yesterday.
When she called to thank me, I made it clear I was the thankful one. We did a little catching up, and she still cared enough about me to want to hear more about a little trouble I’ve been having. As always, her insight provided invaluable clarity to me. That is the essence of friendship as I know it, kindness and caring and talking things out. Out of loyalty to her new boy-friend, she can no longer hang out with me or call as often as in the past, but I am thinking we will remain the kind of friends who can go weeks, months or longer without talking, yet always know that someone who cares is only a phone call away.
