We walked on the beach and looked for rocks. We looked at the sky and tried to name the clouds. We celebrated, and ate the kind of meal we used to indulge in regularly in Seattle when we were both feeling flush. We talked. We sat at the edge of a large meadow full of long golden grass. There is a comfortable quiet intimacy between us now. He is the first person I call with good news.
The friendship will survive the distance; that's not my fear. Maybe I'm not even afraid of anything, just sad. I will miss him. There is no doubt about that. He has been my champion. He has pushed me, gently, towards the places I wanted to go, but lacked the impetus to get there.
I remember our first meeting: Christmas Day in a fancy restaurant, talking and eating, admiring the beautiful delicious food, the last ones in the restaurant as it closed, not wanting to stop the conversation. How easily it all began. The pattern of our activity hasn't changed that much.
It's so hard to write about this (he will see it, of course). Besides, it's not about me. I am reacting to it, sure, but it's his adventure, his next step. I am thrilled for him, excited to see what he can do in his new world. He's got impetus to spare. And a dishwasher.
Last night I read your friend's blog. His soulfulness, brightness and humor shine through. No doubt you will miss him greatly, but the friendship will endure the miles and the distance will make for some grand reunions.
Posted by: anita | 06 September 2007 at 06:47 PM