The loss of these individuals in my life has been a great lesson for me, but one that evolved from “Maybe I shouldn’t have said or done something” to “It’s their loss, not mine.” Not that I believe my friendship is so special that the loss of it is so great; rather I feel sorry that the bitterness they carry around with them prevents them from experiencing what I have with so many true friends: an unconditional (See Breakable Unbreakable Bonds), lifelong connection that means the world to me.
I thought of this as I sat at the kitchen table Wednesday catching up with Cyndi, my college-day friend. This visit came after a nine-year gap. You know how it is, we move on with our lives, which often take us to different places. I left California for Las Vegas; Cyndi to central California. We lose touch for a while but when we reconnect we fall right back into a great place of friendship. When we are together, it is as if we are those young, idealistic nineteen-year-olds again; like to no time had passed at all between us. It is the most special, wonderful thing to be able to sit across from a friend whom I’ve known since before our lives were truly started. We are both in the menopause years, yet, we recalled our lives before it all unfolded.
|August 1979, Santa Monica, CA|
|John, Cyndi, and Sienna at home|
Yes, it hurt to lose those that felt my friendship wasn’t worth repairing after a perceived slight, but I am so loved by others that it makes up for it.