Just been thinking about the past year. Last week a little friend was in a car accident, earlier this month one of my closest roommates from college lost her husband suddenly, her sister’s husband died just the month before, a young friend’s husband had a stroke, as did my mom’s husband, I discovered a dear friend feels lonely and lost, fires came close to several friends’ homes, a grandma friend broke her wrist and had to stay in supervised care facility for an extended period of time, and our grandpa friend had a very serious accident with a chain saw. On and on.
I was ecstatic to hear from my roommates, with whom I exchange Christmas cards and pictures with every year, but I was so sad to realize the terms that brought about this recent connection. It was heavenly to talk to one on the phone, she sounded just like she did when we lived in the dorms and then our apartment; it was as if no time had passed at all, and I wondered why I hadn’t just picked up the phone and called her a hundred times over the past 25 years. And why are the five us just now finding each other and talking. Does it really take a death to remind us of our friendship?
I thought of our friends, the parents of our friend in the accident. My heart immediately wanted to connect with them, all we could think about was wanting to go to them personally. I texted with the wife, Todd called the husband and they talked. But I wondered why it took a car wreck to propel us to call them. Why haven’t we had them over for dinner in the past six months? Why haven’t we just called to check in and catch up? Where have we been?
I hadn’t talked to my friend from school (whom I know through PTO and the library) for a couple of years! Why did it take a fire for me to reach out to her? And our neighbors—Todd and I talk about having them over all the time, why haven’t we? We’ve gone the whole summer without a single bbq with them. The last time we hung out was during the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics.
Why hadn’t I taken time to visit my grandma friend more often? Why did it take her moving away from her home and into a facility to wake me up? And my father figure (grandpa to my kids) friend, why only after a serious accident did I think to bring him muffins and make a visit? Why did I wait so long to see these people I love so much?
I think of a friend who was in a dire emotional state a year ago. Why is it that I didn’t make the effort to connect with her before she summoned us for support? Why did I wait? Was I playing some sort of twisted game in my head about whose turn it was to reach out? Or did I talk myself into thinking our friendship had changed and had essentially ended just because I hadn’t heard from her in awhile? I had no idea she was in crisis. But I should’ve.
I wonder if we give up on our friendships because of distance. Maybe miles, states, and years stand between us. Maybe we’re in the same town and distance of time creeps in and creates some sort of wedge, starting out with just a few weeks going by before we realize it’s been nearly 9 months since we’ve talked or had them over; now it’s awkward. Maybe even within our families our hurts or misunderstandings create emotional distance, and the longer we spend not talking about what we’re feeling, the deeper our wounds seem to get and the further apart we feel. Maybe we sense we’ve just all grown apart. Maybe we just do what’s easy.
I just spent a week in Utah, where two of my favorite aunts live. Why didn’t I take time to go visit either of them? I have my excuses, I got in late Sunday night and classes started up on Monday, we left the house every day at 7:30 and didn’t get home till about 6 or so every night. We left early Saturday morning as soon as we were done to come home. Not a lot of down time. But would I have made time if there was a funeral? Or if one had been in the hospital or had a major health issue? Of course. I made a point of going to visit my roommate. But it took a tragedy; I don’t go to see her every time I’m there. And yet I love her. I love my aunts. What’s wrong with me?
I think I’m normal. We just always think there’ll be a next time, another time, more time.
But what if we switched things up and didn’t assume? What if we just told ourselves it’s time? What if we made the effort? What if we just got on the phone today and asked a girlfriend to go on a walk tomorrow? What if we invited our friends for dinner Friday and worried about what to make later? What if we actually asked that family to go on a hike with us? What if Todd followed through and invited some of the guys to go fishing; they’re always talking about it, why don’t they just make plans for next week? What if we wrote a card or letter to a relative we were once close to but have lost contact with over the years? What if we went to visit our 80 year old friend and didn’t wait for her to fall again? What if we did it today?
The power of connecting, even when it’s as simple as a text or a note, is magical. But in person can be potentially life-changing. And yet we’re missing opportunities. We make up stories, they’ve moved on, we’re not as close as we used to be, they’re too busy, we’re not on the same page anymore, we’re too busy, they have other friends, we don’t have as much in common any more. I use these excuses all the time.
And yet, I know how good it feels to make the first move, to get out of my comfort zone and just send the text, to invite a friend for a smoothie or to lunch, to ask a family over again even when it’s been forever. And I know how great it feels when someone does the same for us, sending a message on FB or texting to go for a walk or to come for dinner, I love it! I’m so grateful for the time I’ve spent with friends and family building and maintaining relationships; they mean everything to me. Yet even with that as a backdrop, I fail to make the effort so much more often. I’m like most of us, waiting for that elusive better time, more time, a good time, the next time.
I just wonder if we could make something happen today. Instead of waiting for sad news, why not connect when life is just normal? It shouldn’t take a crisis to remind us of how much we love (or loved) each other, but often it does. I venture to say we won’t ever regret stretching, taking a chance, reaching out to connect with people we care about. Regardless of the distance, whose turn it is, or how long it’s been, there’s no better time. There’ll never be more time. But there might not be a next time. Maybe now's the time.
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