Friends through the seasons of life.
Roots to Breath, Dona Anderson
Celebrating and Remembering an old Friend
I don’t mean old in age necessarily, you know those friends that are still there through all the ups and downs, changes, and years of our lives.
This one was over 43 years to be exact.
I recently learned of the passing of an old friend. I’ll
call her Princess as that was what
her husband said he still called her to the end! I met her at a time of change and uncertainty
in our lives. My husband and I had recently lost our home in a fire, we had a 10 month
old daughter and were pregnant again. My
husband had met her first because he could speak a bit of French and her husband was going away on a course and needed someone to check
on his family and bring her the mail.
A few weeks later we all met as we headed out to see a
parade, it was the May long weekend in 1970. I couldn’t speak French, she only
knew a few words in English but it didn’t matter. It's funny how sometimes you connect with
others when you can’t really communicate well or it seems you don’t have
anything in common but there is something, something there that luckily ties
you together and creates a bond.
We had some great times together as the children all
grew and later on, there were gourmet meals, family outings, bowling nights, campfire
nights and story nights. It’s funny now how
I just realized that it has been about 35 years since we haven’t lived in the
same place so our friendship even though it has been very distant has remained.
Princess inspired me with her smile, her Vogue style,
her friendship, her home that looked like a magazine article for country
living, all her hard work, and especially
her ongoing optimism and hope. It was a
privilege for us to support her creativity and art when we could. We get to see and admire it every day as we
walk through our home and we even passed some on to our family.
I am so glad that when we last got together about 3
years ago we called ahead to plan a cheese fondue lunch where we lingered over
wine while we got caught up, and told some old and new stories. We then went for a walk in their yard to see
and admire the gardens and to find and enjoy all the yard art. Later we checked out her new passion for
quilting, and we ended up staying for a wonderful supper before heading
out. The visit as always was inspiring,
uplifting, and full of courage and hope just like she was right up until the
final day.
In my next book that I’m still working on I have a
writing about sharing your stories and sharing the stories of others. Just like compliments that should be given
out, I believe we have to speak about the wonderful things others do and pass them
on in some way. We are all
affected in some way by those that we connect with and those that support us in
our lives and I know for certain that I am definitely a much better person
because of how this wonderful friend filled parts of my life, and she will
always hold a very special place in my heart!
I celebrate our friendship
and her life!
I am saddened to hear of your loss of such a wonderful friend. As the baby in the story, I read and wondered who this lovely friend was and if I would have known her. I continued to read, wondering if the tears would come with a revelation that I too had lost someone or if perhaps this person would be from a chapter of your life that I did not know.
ReplyDeleteArt! Passing on to family! Oh my, there it was...the revelation and the tears. Tears? Yes this becomes a fascinating question to ponder. Why tears from me? My memories are old and vague. Are the tears connecting me to the times of old, in which I too must have loved her? Are the tears for her family and friends who mourn? Perhaps.
My parents have a love of beautiful things collected from all over the world and especially gifts made from the heart. Not only did they create their own works but I remember in our house a clock made in Ontario by someone my Dad met, a Christmas needle point picture proudly displayed year round, a model ship my Grandpa had made and yes, pieces made by "Princess."
I too have learned to love and appreciate fine items made with precision and craft. I fondly remember opening wedding gifts and had to contain my squeal of delight in receiving two such gifts. One was made by my uncle, a petit point of a Ukrainian granny, "Baba" (I was marrying a Ukrainian man!) and the other was a pizza paddle with a beautiful scene of a milk cart delivery hand painted by “Princess.” I have treasured these gifts though countless moves and had deemed them the most valuable items to rescue should there be a fire.
Over the years I have been blessed with many more gifts from the heart. My Mom made me a two foot tall Santa using linens from her mother, a variety of Christmas stockings which we excitedly choose from each year, teddy bears to love, stain glass jewelry to wear and yes I do have the book and CD! My Dad has brought me gifts from afar; prints from the North, carvings from Africa, one of those wooden clocks from Ontario and his own stain glass masterpieces to hang. There are many more gifts they have made and given me but the latest one brings me tears as I write.
Last Friday I left my parents house with a beautiful hand crafted shelf that has a bear painted on the door. I haven't found a home for it in any quiet corner so this bear has greeted me continuously over these last few days with a message of love and joy. A message from "Princess."
Tears? Yes, tears! Tears for the beauty of ones work in life, tears for meaning found in items and the gifts that keep giving, tears for friendships enjoyed and celebrated, tears for the loss experienced by loved ones and tears because it is my emotional response that allows me to pay a tribute for a life well lived!
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