Today I spoke with a dear friend I hadn't seen in perhaps 14 years. And I'm ashamed to admit that the occasion was the funeral of her husband.
I'd met Jan at a brokerage where we both worked. She was a down-to-earth, what-you-see-is-what-I-am kind of woman and I liked her immediately. This was back in the days when I took more risks with my health. Jan and I would go on smoke breaks together, sharing the comedies and tragedies from our lives two times a day, ten minutes each time. As I learned, that's all the time necessary to form a deep, caring bond. To share concerns, fears and frustrations. To joke, gossip and conspire.
In time I came to meet Jan's husband Harold. Worried over my single status, the couple once tried to hook me up with one of their nephews. I'm sure they were relieved when I finally met and married the guy that was right for me. Less so when Frank and I invited them to a ballgame on what might have been the hottest day of the year. Today Jan reminded me that it was a double-header.
Years went by and eventually both Jan and I found other jobs.
"I've given up too easily on good friendships ."
I've never been good at sustaining friendships once either party has moved on. I regret that; I've been blessed with truly great friends. Perhaps this is the by-product of a childhood spent with a family that moved to a new state almost every year. As a high school sophomore I didn't even try to make friends. It had become to painful to say goodbye.
It's possible my history is only an excuse, however. I know I've given up too easily.
I'm going to try harder. As I left the funeral reception, I told Jan I'd give her a call in a few weeks. I will follow-up on that promise. I've heard that it's the weeks and months after a loved one's passing that are the most difficult and I want to lend my support. After all, Jan -- in all her simplicity and humility -- is a great lady. And today I realize that I've missed her in my life.
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