When I was in Denver, it was easy. I had a best friend, Shannon (pictured, somewhat in disguise to the right) who I counted on for everything. When I was in the mood to "party" she was there with a six pack, when I wanted to whine she was there to listen, when I needed a play date she needed one too. Easy. Tonight, here I am in my Berkeley home, husband away, feeling....alone. I so wish I could have called up Shannon and asked her to come over.... she would have obliged.
Case in point... we both had our second babies two days apart. That is a story-in-and-of-itself. Her baby was mild, sweet and easy. My baby cried all the time and wanted to be held during all waking hours. The husband was traveling extensively at the time, and I was on the verge of a postpartum breakdown. Knowing Shannon had her own newborn I was hesitant to call her in a moment of shear desperation, but I was well...desperate. I called. She picked up the phone. She casually inquired about my well being, I immediately broke down in uncontrollable sobs. She was at my house within minutes. I have no idea if she knows how much that night meant to me. She was a life line. She was a freaking GODDESS.
But today, here I am. In a house I rarely share with friends. The husband is gone, and I am lonely. I have met some lovely people, but Shannon and I have history. I fear losing my Denver friendships. Miles have a way of quietly dissolving bonds. It has already happened no doubt, but I am still hoping that at least some of my friendships do run deeper, and that the best will survive....