The Great Friend Diaspora

 Looking back on my post of Jan 5, the list of things I wanted to get off my chest.  One was what I have thought of as the Great Friend Diaspora.

Bob and I never had much of a social life.  Somehow, we were enough for each other.  But we did have a small group of friends that we'd see a few times a year.  More important, they were friends that gave you that reassurance that someone has your back.  The friends you could call if you needed help, if you had to stay out of town unexpectedly and you could ask to go feed the cats.  They could call if they needed help moving something.  They were *there.*

And now they aren't.  Well, Gill is still here, but medically incapacitated.  In too much pain for a visit, and too much stiff British upper lip to want to be seen anyway (and cautious to the point of paranoia about Covid - I don't blame her because it would do a number on her).  We talk on the phone, but I haven't physically seen her in almost two years, when she drove by to bring me some scones when I came back home, but she didn't even get out of the car).

Kim moved to Arizona.  Nancy moved to California.  Rob got a job in Tennessee.  That one had me clenched up.  Rob and Jeff are married.  Jeff is one of those extroverted introverts.  Claims to be an introvert, and is, except that he's also people loving, and there's something about him  - charisma - that people gather around him.  Rob and Jeff would have gatherings a few times a year - potluck, fire pits, conversations.  With people you only saw at those gatherings.  It was fun.  I've also been friends with Jeff for over 20 years.  We drifted apart after we stopped doing the Howl, and they got their own place on acreage so didn't need to come see us to get out of town and relax, but still friends.  I often called him my "foul weather" friend (as opposed to the cliche of a fair weather friend) because he never had time to have lunch, or hang out, or visit - but if need arose, he'd be there.  He was my security blanket.

The plan was for Rob to test out the new job for six months.  So it was in my mind that somehow he would decide to come back.  He didn't.  Jeff wasn't too sure at first about quitting his job (although he'd been unhappy in it for the last decade) and moving - but it's hard to maintain a long-distance relationship.  I kept hoping something would work out.  He decided that it was time to put the house on the market, figuring it would take a month or two to sell.

It sold in four days.  Decision was made.  He was leaving.

I was gutted.  I couldn't stop crying for days.  I'd find myself doing something else, maybe working in the yard, and whispering "please don't leave me."  Begging.  Pleading (damn - he's been gone for three months - and I haven't heard a word from him, but I'm crying again just remembering).  I glad I had the strength never to say it to him, even when he actually came to see me (first time since Bob died) with pizza and to pick up a couple of Bob mementos.  I leaned against him for a moment to snap a selfie - feeling the shock of leaning against another human being, along with the feeling of deep loss, all in the couple of seconds it took to snap the picture).  He'll never know how much I wanted to hang on to him, to the idea that someday there would be gatherings and potlucks and laughter and seeing a group of people that I knew only though him.

And trying to make new friends is hard at the best of time, and even harder during the pandemic (no "getting out and meeting people").  The first time I tried, she died.  The second time (Adrienne) - well, we had one great brunch together last October but she's developed some serious health issues and it's painful to talk or do much of anything so any other get-togethers are in the undefined future)

Add to the five friends the four cats and four peacocks (I'm down to one), a couple of chickens, and the last of the goldfish (and the new ones I was going to give a better life to didn't make it either) and it's just one helluva vacuum.

This isn't a pity party.  My friends at work - Suzie, Shelby, Laura - will have my back in a heartbeat should I need it.  So will Bob's friend Danno, who still calls to check on me.  Rob and Amanda are on call.

But it's the times that I'm not in need that can feel a little empty.  And - knock wood - so far things are going OK.  I haven't been in need.

OK - that's dumped.  Maybe I can move on.