This weekend I went to Atlanta and spent some quality time with old friends. Clarification, they are not old, we’ve just known each other a long time. I met up with one friend I hadn’t seen in over thirty years. It’s amazing to me how so much time can pass and life can be lived, but the old feelings returned and we picked up right where we left off.
I had lots of alone time while driving, resting, and reading. I enjoyed the solitude. In my “real” life, I’m hardly ever alone. There’s lots of quiet time with Mom and I’ve finally learned to relax into her silence. However, it is truly different to be alone without another human or animal. There is a peace to it I rarely experience.
Even in the company of my friends, we sometimes sat in companionable silence. We didn’t feel the need to fill every moment with conversation. There is simply no way to catch up fully on an absence of 30 years in only a few hours so we simply reconnected our spirits. I know I am much changed in the interim, but I am also much the same. So are they.
Now that I am back at Mom’s side, I’ve been comparing the quiet spaces of my life. For most of my life, silence and quiet have made me uneasy. I love to go, meet, talk, and do. I’m such an extrovert that I am energized by activity, especially in small groups. I can become overwhelmed with large groups, but I live in a small town that is rarely overpopulated – except during festivals. Then I stay home!
It’s a beautiful, unique thing to be alone with someone and not feel the need to fill in the silence. It’s more than companionable or comfortable. It’s rare – a precious jewel – to have friends bound so perfectly in spirit. I’ve been blessed over and over in my life with amazing, precious friends just like these. Thinking about them or remembering them in the past, I wouldn’t have known how important they were to me. Maybe it took the intermittent years to show me their value.
I was nervous before reconnecting. I did all the self-doubt: What if they don’t like me now? What if their memories of me are unhappy enough to taint our time together? What if too much time has passed? It certainly could have happened that way, and to be fair, I’ve had unhappy reunions. Not this weekend; it was lovely.
Sometimes it’s hard for us caregivers to reach out. We hope people will reach to us, especially if they know what we are going through. The simple truth is we are all preoccupied with our own lives and it’s hard to remember those who are out of sight. Let’s agree to make ourselves more visible and ask for the support we need. Sometimes just sitting in companionable, comfortable quiet is enough to make us feel connected. Isn’t that what we all need?
