Old friend
I had a wonderful lunch yesterday catching up with an old friend and her husband. Dorothy and I stretch back 30 years to when we met in the Hokianga - me with my five young children and her with her grandchildren who were about the same age. We formed an instant connection, even though the age difference was about 14 years and the child distance a tonne more. All her five children, the same combination as me, four boys and a girl (although in the opposite order), had grown and long flown the nest and it was now the grandchildren she was supporting as we had that first conversation at the school event.
We gelled. I think my boisterous children were often a bit much for her, but that didn’t seem to matter too much as our friendship continued throughout the years, even when we lived hundreds of kilometres apart.
Dorothy is an open, intelligent woman and one whose guidance I have always valued. It was her whom I gave a copy of my unpublished manuscript to peruse and whose advice I took on board. Dorothy loves reading and has always been supportive of my work, even if she is not a fan of the pronouns that I frequently use in my writing. But she takes an interest because she is a friend and has known me through the thick and thin of my life, especially the final years of my marriage. That was not a happy time. Back in those days, I hadn’t learnt how to work on myself and thus had a lot of unresolved mother-issues. My ex-husband was just a repeat of her. It was often Dorothy whom I turned to when something else would bother me. Nowadays when we talk, it is more to catch up, rather than to dissect my relationship or other problems.
In my last blog, I talk about letting people be who they are. At the risk of putting this 30-year friendship in jeopardy, yes, Dorothy will read this. I am so grateful to her and my other faithful readers… the other two of them, but I will mention this anyway. Added to her list of positive qualities, Dorothy was often unreliable. I know she was a busy woman and I learnt to accept that hit-and-miss side of her. Sometimes she would show up and at other times she wouldn’t. When she told me she was coming to the book launch, I was excited, but as it was a long way, nearly two hours, I didn’t put too much expectation on her appearing. I was delighted when she did show up and it was her and another long-standing friend that made the launch so special.
Dorothy expressed a desire to come over to visit, with us meeting in a nearby village, about half an hour from home. We set the date for Wednesday, September 28th, the day after my writing-group meeting. On Monday, Dorothy phoned, just giving me a prewarning that a friend had died and the funeral might be on the Wednesday. She would let me know the next day. I don’t know what it was about this week, but in one of the rare times, our writing was changed, could we make it the following day, Wednesday? I said that I may not be available, I would know tomorrow. In the end, Thursday suited us all better for the writing get-together. When I woke yesterday, we still hadn’t heard from Dorothy but I made the assumption she wouldn’t be coming as the last conversation was that the funeral might be on. So, Stephen and I went to town for groceries. Walking around the supermarket, I heard my phone ringing. ‘’Did you see my text?’’ It was Dorothy who was on her way for the visit.
It actually worked perfectly. We finished our shopping, headed out home to drop our groceries off and arrived about 11am at the renowned fish shop for our lunch, not many minutes behind our friends.
So, if you are still with me Dorothy, I can no longer put you into the unreliable category. That is twice now that you have been as good as your word. But regardless, I love you either way.