A tale of friendship

It was a quiet, little town, sleepy even, by some standards.  A bank, a grocery, a library, a post office, even a gas station, all the essentials, all within walking distance. It was just about midway, between school on the south and work on the north.  It was 2002, and Richmond was the prefect little place for us and we knew it.  We knew we wanted to live there.   So, when we finally located an upstairs, two bedroom apartment, (after much searching and prayer), for a reasonable $425 a month, we quickly signed the lease.

It was our fifth apartment, fifth move and fifth ward in three years.  We lived simply and had the moving process down pretty good by this point.   I knew it would take about six months before we felt at home and comfortable in our new ward and about that long to make some new friends. 

But this time was a little different. 

Because this time, in the four-plex next to ours lived the Mengs, another young, poor, starving-student type family, that mirrored ours.  One little boy, two years old.  One beautiful and amazing housewife, and one hardworking man tackling a full time job, school and family.

I soon found myself, stroller in-hand, accompanying the wife, Leah, to the church most mornings to do aerobics with a small group of ladies.

She was frugal and incredibly talented. She crafted, baked and sewed.  She taught ballroom dance, and was the friendly RN with a cell phone on the other end of an Ask Nurse Hotline.  She did it all, and she was in a word: incredible!  She was constantly serving and doing wonderful things for friends and neighbors, it was just her nature.

We hit it off almost instantly, the first real "girl" friend I'd had since getting married.  Together, we'd exercise daily, often taking long walks with our boys in strollers, we gardened, and honed in our canning techniques together.  We went camping and to the park. We double dated, played games and shared meals.   We learned from each other as we dealt with  busy husbands, "the terrible two's", biting and potty training.  She inspired all kinds of greatness within  me.  I can honestly say, I'm a better person today because of the time I spent in her company.  We laughed together, dreamed of life post graduation and I, vividly,  recall one night sitting on the floor of my kitchen leaning against the cabinets wiping back my own tears as I tried to ease hers -she was one of those friends.  The very best kind of friend.    

The hole she left when they moved out state was huge, gaping and black. But, life goes on and, as they say, time heals most wounds.  We've watched each other from afar as new babies come and addresses change and enjoy the occasional visits that become fewer and farther between.

And now, getting to the point.

She called today.

Out of the blue. 

Its been at least a year, if not more, since we last talked.

The conversation picked up easily, just like it should with old friends.

An enjoyable hour and half later, I hung up the phone and headed outside to shovel the eight inches of snow waiting for me on the driveway.  As I was enjoying the movement and exercise in the crisp winter air, I was remembering and marveling at just how wonderful she was (and still is) when it hit me. 

This huge sense of loss and the realization that I could still feel that empty, dark hole that was created in my life when she moved away.  Plain and simple, I still missed my friend.

But here is the amazing part, the tender mercy…

That feeling of loss was almost immediately replaced with this overwhelming sense of blessings.  Warm, wonderful blessings from my Heavenly Father.  The knowledge, once again, that He is mindful of me and knows exactly how lonely I've been.  Something I'm not sure I even understood myself until that moment previous.  That simple reminder that I still have friends, several wonderful friends, in fact (albeit hundreds of miles away),  brought me so much peace and comfort I no longer had room to feel their loss.  So today, standing in a pile of snow I pushed back my own grateful tears for all my friends.  Friends that have brought so much happiness and blessings into my life and then left holes, big and small.  And especially for Leah, who still cares enough to call, randomly, out of the blue to catch up and remind me that I'm not alone.   And today that is just enough.