But friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life, and thanks to a benevolent arrangement the greater part of life is sunshine. Thomas Jefferson
I’ve reconnected with people from my past this year. A lot of it has been on Facebook. Everyone makes Facebook out to be this nefarious entity. They tell us how it is ruining marriages. They don’t tell us how it is reconnecting people.
It’s a loose connection, but it gives us a window into other people’s lives. We put a comment on their post. We like a picture. It is a form of connection. It shouldn’t be the only connection with people but for those of us who live far from where we grew up it widens our circle.
We lose people along the way we didn’t mean to lose contact with. It takes an effort to stay in touch. This year of big changes has made me reach out to people. If not now, when? I want to live my life with few regrets. Relationships end or fizzle because of time and circumstance but they can end on a good note.
Many times they don’t end, we just get busy. We’ll call them a little later. When we call the phone number is no longer in service, the Christmas card (who does this anymore) came back. We go on with our life. We think about them but more time goes by.
A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often – just to save it from drying out completely. Pam Brown
Mom came up with a phone number for someone I shouldn’t have lost contact with. I called last night. We had a great chat. She’s far away but if we try we may be able to be in the same place at the same time to see each other. We can stay in touch by phone and Facebook.
I have someone else I’m going to try and locate. I haven’t seen her since I was six. She’s estranged from her father. Am I meddling if I try to reconnect them?
My circle is widening. The time of my life being all about work and home is over. I’m stepping out to develop the side of me I set aside when the responsibilities of mothering took all the extra time I had. It may not be true I didn’t have time to widen my circle then. We tell our selves things that aren’t true. We don’t have time, we don’t have resources.
In my writer’s group, the majority of the members are older. We’ve built our lives doing and being what society told us we should be and do. It may be the best thing that we are coming to writing later. It is a pursuit suited to older people. We’ve seen more, we’ve lived more, and we have something to say. Fortunately, we don’t need to live off our writing. We don’t have to worry if we are a commercial success.
We don’t have to write for an audience. Instead, we hope an audience likes what we write. There is a big difference. We can be honest, authentic, and put our words out to the world. We understand writing is the joy. Once we put it out there we need to write something else.
I saw Maya Angelou recounting what she got from every decade. We need to look at life like that. Every decade brings gifts. We need to be open to what can be, not mourn too much what is over.
I was reading what some very unwell elderly people were saying about their life. They were still thinking when it gets worse. They were still seeing the beauty in their days even though many of the things they’d enjoyed were not able to be enjoyed any longer. They were enjoying what they still had.
If we go forward with humor and optimism we have no idea the gifts ahead for us. The people we’ll meet, the friends we’ll make, and the ones we’ll reconnect with. Life is about going forward, meeting the challenges of the day and enjoying the rewards. We may think we enjoyed our twenties more than we’ll enjoy our nineties (if we are lucky enough to get there) it might not be true. The truth is probably we need to enjoy each day, living fully in the moment. I think I’ll pose this question to my mom, is she enjoying her nineties as much as she enjoyed her twenties? Happiness is a state of mind, we can choose to be happy at every age.
Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. Marcel Proust