Friendship Happens

I am amazed at the process of friendship. It happens when you least expect it, often when you don't even want it to, and most of the time it is completely beyond your control. I mean, there I was one day going about my own business, when I happened to meet a boy. He was nice. I liked him. We talked on the phone, went out to dinner a few times. Next thing you know, we've been married 10 years and have 3 small children living with us. (I'm told they're our children. But, of course, we're far too young to have kids of our own. I think they just popped in from the neighbors' house and liked our food so they stuck around.)

Anyway, somewhere between that Friday night in September almost 15 years ago and now I've gained a best friend -  my husband, and three amazing young ladies with whom I am privileged to spend most of my waking hours. Let's be honest here, I spend much of my sleeping hours with the younger two as well, as they still tend to migrate to our room at night. There you go again - a perfect example of friendship occurring in the strangest of ways. Who else would I allow to cry at me, poop at me, vomit at me, and kick me all night and still love as much I do these children? And, don't forget - they're also eating all my food. Friendship is a funny, funny thing.

But, of course, it doesn't stop there. Attached to my husband (at least figuratively, if not sometimes literally) are relatives. He's got parents, brothers, cousins, aunts, grandparents. These people slowly started encroaching on my circle of acquaintances from the very first day I met Mark - initially as only as faceless characters in the stories my future-husband told me over dinner.  Of course, that soon changed. With each passing holiday or social gathering they gained standing in my friendship lineup - moving up from batboy into cleanup position. Now, these people are among my heavy hitters - often my go to batters. How did that happen? I'll tell you how...

Since I wasn't exactly out husband shopping that night in September almost 15 years ago (I know I've said that already, but 15 years... seriously!?), I wasn't thinking of the long-term consequences of that boy calling me up the next day. I know we need to educate young people about the effects that their youthful indiscretions and energetic actions can have on the rest of their lives. But, I'd say I was far better informed about sex, drugs, and rock and roll as a teenager than I was about the cold, hard facts about acquaintances, friendship, and love. Oh, you think you'll be able to play around and stop whenever you want to, but before you know it you'll wake up a dozen years later with an in-law habit that won't quit, craving time with your husband's friends, and (as long as we're being frank, here) hanging out with a totally different crowd than you used to when you were young and innocent.

Often, they'll expose you to bad habits - like baseball and seafood. You'll start inviting them over more and more often, spend your money on vacations and gifts. At some point in the process you will have to look at yourself in the mirror and admit that you are addicted. Not only that - but you've gone and spread the addiction to your own friends and family as well. There will be times when you'll look around you and see your family, his family, and families you never even dreamed of knowing all hopped up on sugar and good times together, and you'll have to admit that you're the one who brought this about. You're the one who created this chain of people addicted to each other. You're the one - you and that night 15 years ago. How did it all spiral out of your control so quickly?

Next time you're surrounded by these family and friends, brought together only by your actions, I hope you're pleased with yourself and the situation you've created. I hope you're pleased with yourself when you realize that the term 'in-law' has become obsolete and unnecessary. I hope you're pleased with yourself at night when you can't sleep because you're worried about people you didn't even know when you were a kid. I hope you're pleased with yourself when no one can remember who was on the groom's side or the bride's side at the wedding, since they're all piled in together at one table during the holidays now. I hope you're pleased with yourself when you realize the imperceptible process of friendship that has taken place in your life. I hope you're pleased with yourself and the people you're surrounded by. I do sincerely hope so, because I know I am....

Spring

It is time! The captives are returning home, the ravages of war are receding, and I'm beginning to believe that we just might live to see another day. It's a cyclical battle that rages around us - the combatants scheming in their lairs when not engaged in active warfare. When the forces collide they leave destruction on their wake, and it's come to the point where the locals barely notice a change in power. Invaders from the north? Terrorists from without? Factions within political parties? Nope - just Old Man Winter and Spring in their eternal tug of war.

Our snow is almost all melted now. I'm a combat veteran, so I know better than to think there won't be a few last barrages of snow before an official ceasefire is called, but the tide has turned and I think that Spring is most certainly going to be victorious. Trust me - there were times when I wasn't so sure. There's typically at least a temporary shift in power in mid-January, which didn't happen this year. Winter has apparently been improving its training techniques. No, one thaw does not a summer make, but just as surely as the first killing frost has power, so too does the pull of Spring.

When winter comes, it often appears to do so suddenly, but only because we are not paying attention. We disregard the threats -  pretend we don't see the subtle shifting of the landscape, the invading army camouflaged in reds and oranges. We fool ourselves into thinking that early frosts are just heavy dews, that cold rains are a relief after the heat of summer. But, try as we might, there comes a point when we can no longer ignore the fact that the enemy has surrounded us, and has set up camp to stay. By the time we are pulling on the armor of sweaters and jackets, we've already lost the fight. The first heavy frost of the season kills the vegetative resistance. The geese and songbirds take flight. The squirrels and rabbits go underground. We often don't realize that the battle is lost until the snow slides in to claim the land for its own.

But, of course, even if winter won the battle, it never fully wins the war. All through the dreary months when we suffer under Winter's tyranny, Spring is gathering strength, calling for reinforcements, and planning for its victorious return. Sometimes it engages the enemy in an exhausting and drawn-out campaign. Some years it sneaks in, planting its forces until is has winter surrounded and calls for an immediate surrender. This year, though, it rode in strong and hit hard, striking a decisive blow. The tyrant, snow, has been unseated. Freezing temperatures are afraid to even make night-time attacks, and the first blush of green has returned to the landscape. Come back, you refugees. Come out from hiding, you prisoners of war. Spring has returned and is victorious once more!

Tonight I will fall asleep to the artillery of a beautiful Spring lightning storm. There will be more battles in the weeks to come - with winter throwing all the cold and snow and ice it has left at us, and Spring fighting back with glorious sunshine, sudden explosions of color and life, and the subtle strength of a warm, southern wind. At some point we will all cheer the final seasonal departure of Winter to his retreat. I know he will be plotting his revenge while I am reveling in the heat of summer, but that's ok. The eternal seasonal war may be never ending, but at least winter is not!