On friendship

Mile two hundred-something of my Sunday driving shift. An unforgiving southern rain pounds the windshield, makes a soft watercolor of the towering pine forest lining the road. Naomi is asleep in the passenger seat, and for the first time in a good long while, I actually have time to think, to process things other than white papers and cosponsor requests.

I reflect on the previous night’s dinner, the nine people sitting around a table at a Cracker Barrel. I’ve known most of those people for eight years now. I could tell you quite a few stories about their college years – tales of debate trips and Frisbee games, dreams shattered and fulfilled. I feared what would become of our respective bonds when life took us separate directions.

But then, something not so strange happened. We kept in touch, in our own imperfect ways. I went to their weddings and prayed for their bar exams. We left each other phone and Facebook messages, sent long emails to each other with subjects like “catching up” and “been too long.” We stayed up late praying and went on road trips together. (I think of the challenging conversations and infectious laughter Naomi and I shared over the weekend en route.) And our divergent roads led us back together, to a wedding in Greenwood, South Carolina, far from each of our new lives that aren’t so new anymore. We talked about being able to pick up where we left off, and we could in many ways, but it’s even better than that. We’ve each grown, up and in our appreciation for one another, which means we don’t have to go back to where we left off. We can simply enjoy the present, now, not focusing on the future (as we used to) or dwelling on the past (as we could).

I recall the cherry trees I saw blooming in Durham, how bright they were against the monotonous, wintry brown of all the vegetation surrounding them. It’s almost spring in the South, which means it won’t be too long until spring comes to DC as well. But goodness, it takes a lot of rain to make spring happen. (I can barely see the lines on the pavement.) And friendship, real friendship, isn’t too different. I think of the times I cursed those damp, bone-chilling rainy seasons that were in fact the metamorphosis of true friendship into something beautiful.

My mind wanders to the myriad conversations I had last week with coworkers and DC friends about my weekend plans. The incredulous looks. “Almost 20 hours of driving in two days for a wedding?” Yes, but more importantly, for friends. The friends who tied the knot, friends I don’t see often enough, friends I know will have eternity with but whose absence in my daily life is somehow an ache. And it makes me sad to think you don’t have friends for whom you’d drive a thousand miles.

Deep breath, shoulders back, eyes on the road. The rain is relentless, but its sound is melodic – a natural soundtrack to my meandering thoughts of laughter with friends and gratitude toward God for granting us moments that give us a glimpse of a shadow of Reality and Eternity and Good.