About a year and a half ago, I faced the day where I had to say goodbye to my freshman year of college. I didn't know that day that I would have to say goodbye to some other things in my life too.
The day I moved out of my freshman dorm, I called my boyfriend to help me move the already packed boxes into my car. When he arrived, his eyes were the size of cantalopes and his hands were shaking. I knew then that he had come over not to help me move my boxes, but to move me- out of his life. Looking back now, it was all a bit symbolic. Moving out, moving on.
So, with my heart in pieces on the ground, and my girlfriends surrounding me, I tried to muster the courage to drive back home to Omaha from Lincoln. As I stood outside my door, my friend Kyle Thomas stopped me from lifting what I was lifting. He took all my heavy load, and brought everything to my car. Then it was time for me to go to the car, he lifted me up and brought me there too.
I don't know if he knows how much this meant to me. Or how dear I will always hold that memory. I think some people have it in them to know just what to do, right when it is needed. At that moment, Kyle Thomas was a hero.
And then I think of Max Funkey, scraping the ice off my car at 3 am, because he knew I had to drive in the morning. It was just before Christmas, and again, I was headed home. And without even expecting a thank-you, Max saw me in the parking lot, came out, and grabbed the ice scraper from my hand and started hacking away at the inches of Nebraska ice covered my windshield. Max, he was a hero.
The most recent in my life was sn Italian guy named Andrea, and a Spanish guy named David. Both friends of mine from Denmark. They lived right next to the trainstation, so I stayed at their apartment the night before I left. I was so sad to be leaving. That night, David and Andrea stayed up with me, all night long, battling off the sleep and boughts of sadness. Those last few hours in Aalborg were so surreal. I was able to ward off the sadness, up until the moment I zipped up my bags. Right as the wave of despair hit me, those guys were there. They carried my bags and never stopped smiling. We waited there at the bus stop until the bus came, tears pouring down my face, and they never blinked once. They never made me feel stupid for being so sad. They just hugged me. And waved goodbye. And those are the last faces I saw in Aalborg. The last faces from there I have seen to this day.
And this is the point of the hero- they are with you there, right at the end. While they may not have been the leading men the whole story, at the end, they know how to step in.
I heard a story recently that made all this rush back.
A good friend of mine went through a horrible, horrible situation. Not to invade her privacy, but she was stuck in a situation where she had but one person take care of her. And that one person let her down, gravely.
But then there was a hero. Someone she and I have known since high school. My friend called this guy after maybe years of not speaking. He was located in the same state as her, and was her only hope to get out of this sticky situation. Without question, he came and picked her up. No questions. Just delivery.
What makes a friend a hero? They recognize a call to action. They can recognize hurt. They protect vulnerability. They understand sadness, and treasure privacy. At moments where life has such a propensity to pain, you can consider yourself blessed indeed to find yourself in the company of a hero.
Their sensitivity to the needs of their friends in inspiring, and I hope that, in my years, I can find a way to return all the generosity that has been lavished on me.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Seemingly Insignificant Memorable Moments
For days I have been shivering at the Embassy. I have kept my coat on all day.
Today, I went to the bathroom, and when I returned, a man appeared out of my office dressed in blue jeans. Suddenly I felt the warmth of the heat coming from the dusty register under my window. At last! The heat is turned on!
Every spare moment I get, I just go and stand beside it. And then I realize, I am like my cat. Every year when the heat turns on, she sits on top of the vent on the floor. She hears the heat turning on, and she goes and sits there. Hilarious.
Anyways, today is much more important than the heat turning on! This morning I attended a workshop for the "Embassy Adoption Program" which is a program between the Embassies of DC, and DC Public Schools. The Embassies go into 6th grade classrooms to teach about the culture through music, dancing, food, and language.
I am particuarly excited about this event because I think it will give me good experience for my future career. Since I am interested in International Education, I think this will be great for my resume, not to mention a lot of fun.
So at the meeting, all the diplomats had to go around and introduce themselves (gag). Since I had nothing to say except "I'm an intern," I told the group how when I was in 5th grade, I did a school project on Denmark, and I went on to study there in college. "What you are exposed to when you are a child has a great impact on what your interests will be as an adult" I said. "So, I am excited to be a part of this program." Which is true! But I have to shudder a bit to think of what a Washingtonian I am becoming. Talking about myself, all the time.
Speaking of which, I miss Denmark, and I think I need to shutup about it. I think people are getting annoyed. One of the Danish interns who kind of blew me off at EuroNight was there, and he kind of blew me off again. Nice.
But he doesn't matter at all. For tonight, I am meeting the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Ireland. He's basically Irelands Secretary of State. Basically, Michael Martin is to Ireland what Hillary Clinton is to America. I am very excited about this. I am going to go change into my suit soon, to go over to the residence of the Ambassador, and meet an important person. Life feels....cool.
But I am dreading the walk in the 40 degree weather, where it is pouring rain. So for now, I am going to go warm myself by the heater, and dream of being in my own bed at home, curled up with a cup of tea, and maybe my cat.
Today, I went to the bathroom, and when I returned, a man appeared out of my office dressed in blue jeans. Suddenly I felt the warmth of the heat coming from the dusty register under my window. At last! The heat is turned on!
Every spare moment I get, I just go and stand beside it. And then I realize, I am like my cat. Every year when the heat turns on, she sits on top of the vent on the floor. She hears the heat turning on, and she goes and sits there. Hilarious.
Anyways, today is much more important than the heat turning on! This morning I attended a workshop for the "Embassy Adoption Program" which is a program between the Embassies of DC, and DC Public Schools. The Embassies go into 6th grade classrooms to teach about the culture through music, dancing, food, and language.
I am particuarly excited about this event because I think it will give me good experience for my future career. Since I am interested in International Education, I think this will be great for my resume, not to mention a lot of fun.
So at the meeting, all the diplomats had to go around and introduce themselves (gag). Since I had nothing to say except "I'm an intern," I told the group how when I was in 5th grade, I did a school project on Denmark, and I went on to study there in college. "What you are exposed to when you are a child has a great impact on what your interests will be as an adult" I said. "So, I am excited to be a part of this program." Which is true! But I have to shudder a bit to think of what a Washingtonian I am becoming. Talking about myself, all the time.
Speaking of which, I miss Denmark, and I think I need to shutup about it. I think people are getting annoyed. One of the Danish interns who kind of blew me off at EuroNight was there, and he kind of blew me off again. Nice.
But he doesn't matter at all. For tonight, I am meeting the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Ireland. He's basically Irelands Secretary of State. Basically, Michael Martin is to Ireland what Hillary Clinton is to America. I am very excited about this. I am going to go change into my suit soon, to go over to the residence of the Ambassador, and meet an important person. Life feels....cool.
But I am dreading the walk in the 40 degree weather, where it is pouring rain. So for now, I am going to go warm myself by the heater, and dream of being in my own bed at home, curled up with a cup of tea, and maybe my cat.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Hunger is a Good Sauce
When you ask my parents how they met, they will always tell you the same story. Mom was living in an apartment alone. She met my dad, and when he came over to her apartment, the only food she had in the house was a jar of jam and some bread.
Today I looked in the fridge, and saw I had only 2 pieces of bread wrapped in tinfoil, and a jar of boysenberry jam.
So my dad took her to the grocery store, where he bought her a lot of groceries. He spent so much that to this day I think my mom just might still be embarrassed at the cost.
I think that I get it now- because I understand now why my mom only had jam. She probably was capable of grocery shopping, and probably had a little bit of money that she could have gone out and got something for herself. But I think that her time was too precious. I think that she worked all day, and when she came home, she wouldnt want to cook a whole meal just for herself, when she knew that she would enjoy bread and jam just as much.
When my father came along, he demonstrated a sort of luxury. His compassion and concern in this story is touching. While my mom didn't really care about what she had to eat, it was of great concern to my dad. He thought she deserved more than my mom thought she deserved for herself.
Now, I know I cannot do this story justice. And, Mom, if you are reading this right now, maybe you think I got it all wrong. But the point is, my mom demonstrated to me what it means to be content with what you have. My father demonstrated to me that a good man will make efforts to make your life comfortable, even if you don't think you need it.
Today I looked in the fridge, and saw I had only 2 pieces of bread wrapped in tinfoil, and a jar of boysenberry jam.
So my dad took her to the grocery store, where he bought her a lot of groceries. He spent so much that to this day I think my mom just might still be embarrassed at the cost.
I think that I get it now- because I understand now why my mom only had jam. She probably was capable of grocery shopping, and probably had a little bit of money that she could have gone out and got something for herself. But I think that her time was too precious. I think that she worked all day, and when she came home, she wouldnt want to cook a whole meal just for herself, when she knew that she would enjoy bread and jam just as much.
When my father came along, he demonstrated a sort of luxury. His compassion and concern in this story is touching. While my mom didn't really care about what she had to eat, it was of great concern to my dad. He thought she deserved more than my mom thought she deserved for herself.
Now, I know I cannot do this story justice. And, Mom, if you are reading this right now, maybe you think I got it all wrong. But the point is, my mom demonstrated to me what it means to be content with what you have. My father demonstrated to me that a good man will make efforts to make your life comfortable, even if you don't think you need it.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
When I grow up I want to be in the UN
Today I am sitting at home. My laundry is lined up along the windows, wet, on hangers. Outside it is raining, but my windows are still open, drying the clothes. Kelsey Knutson, my roommate, and I made muffins, and now I am relaxing. It is a wonderful day.
Yesterday I attended a conference in North Bethesda, where I was given a name tag that read my name, and below, a blue ribbon with gold ribbon that read "Diplomat." I won't even lie to you: I wore it all the way home. I also got some freebies: A stuffed camel, an inflatable globe, and an invite to a party. I visited Slovenia's booth, where I was met by two young Slovenian interns, one with a very cool lip ring.
I knew instantly that I must be friends with them. I must admit, however, that my confidence was shaken after the run-in with the Danish interns last week at Euro night. But Jan and Marko proved very friendly, and invited me to a party that night at the Slovenian Embassy.
Who am I to say no to an Embassy party? So I went with my friend Olivia, dressed to the nines, with an Irish flag pin on my lapel. They were honoring a 91 year old Italian/Slovenian artist, whose name I cannot recall. The food and drink was excellent, and it was there that I met the other EURO INTERNS. They came from Finland, Sweden, and Slovenia. At this point I decided that we should form a "Lunch Club." Apparently, there was already a facebook group formed. I was told that they Danish are consistently flaky. Good to know it wasn't just me.
During the night, here is what I learned about Slovenia:
It is NOT Slovakia.
There are 2.5 Million people.
They speak Slovenian.
People like to ski there, but they usually go to neighboring Italy to do so.
The interns live in the basement of the Embassy. (Color me jealous)
After the event, all the "EUROTERNS" took a walk to go the home of the Swedish Ambassador's chef. During the walk, they bragged about knowing every word to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song. And that they did. Unfortunately, later, my toes had an awful encounter with the sidewalk, and they started to bleed, so I had to go home early. Unfortunate. But it was great while it lasted, and I hope to see all those people again for "Lunch Club" soon.
Tonight appears to be equally promising. I met a young person at the Italian Embassy last week, and tonight I am going to grab some pizza with them, and meet some more of their George Washington University friends. Bella Notte!
Yesterday I attended a conference in North Bethesda, where I was given a name tag that read my name, and below, a blue ribbon with gold ribbon that read "Diplomat." I won't even lie to you: I wore it all the way home. I also got some freebies: A stuffed camel, an inflatable globe, and an invite to a party. I visited Slovenia's booth, where I was met by two young Slovenian interns, one with a very cool lip ring.
I knew instantly that I must be friends with them. I must admit, however, that my confidence was shaken after the run-in with the Danish interns last week at Euro night. But Jan and Marko proved very friendly, and invited me to a party that night at the Slovenian Embassy.
Who am I to say no to an Embassy party? So I went with my friend Olivia, dressed to the nines, with an Irish flag pin on my lapel. They were honoring a 91 year old Italian/Slovenian artist, whose name I cannot recall. The food and drink was excellent, and it was there that I met the other EURO INTERNS. They came from Finland, Sweden, and Slovenia. At this point I decided that we should form a "Lunch Club." Apparently, there was already a facebook group formed. I was told that they Danish are consistently flaky. Good to know it wasn't just me.
During the night, here is what I learned about Slovenia:
It is NOT Slovakia.
There are 2.5 Million people.
They speak Slovenian.
People like to ski there, but they usually go to neighboring Italy to do so.
The interns live in the basement of the Embassy. (Color me jealous)
After the event, all the "EUROTERNS" took a walk to go the home of the Swedish Ambassador's chef. During the walk, they bragged about knowing every word to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song. And that they did. Unfortunately, later, my toes had an awful encounter with the sidewalk, and they started to bleed, so I had to go home early. Unfortunate. But it was great while it lasted, and I hope to see all those people again for "Lunch Club" soon.
Tonight appears to be equally promising. I met a young person at the Italian Embassy last week, and tonight I am going to grab some pizza with them, and meet some more of their George Washington University friends. Bella Notte!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Like Sam Cooke said, "Change Gon' Come"
Quite the Time in 2009 has been a magnificent journey. But as the time passes, the air cools, and the leaves are changing colors in Washington D.C., I realize that 2009 is rapidly drifting away. Thus, a name change is called for. The new name of my blog will take effect today.
The new name is "Wanderlust." This is derived from the German word "Fernweh" which is literally "an ache for the distance." I think this name suits the blog well. Change is here.
Lots of things have happened in my life lately. Lots of things that are cause for celebration. Every weekend since I have started at the Embassy, I have attended a party. Two weeks ago was a reception for the Order of the Ancient Hiberians, an organization of Irish-American Catholic men. This was at the residence of His Excellency the Ambassador of Ireland. The residence is quite amazing. There is a (very cute) resident chef, and also, a swimming pool. I think maybe I will try very hard to be friends with the Ambassador's wife so that I can go swim in these last few warm days. Though, that scenario is highly unlikely.
I have also attended a press conference, where I was undoubtedly the youngest in attendence. One particular one was an Internet Summit hosted by the FCC. I got so much out of that. And when I say so much, I mean so much free stuff. Lots of sodas were snuck into my backpack that day. I don't know if I have made this known, but I am minoring in "Shameless Thievery." While I definitely had no idea what was going on at this conference, it felt amazing to have people think that I did.
Among my favorite activities since I have started here are the trips to the other embassies. Last Thursday night, I visited the Italian Embassy for an Opera discussion with the conductor of the Kennedy Center's "Barber of Seville." I was invited to this event through my Italian Language Club that I am a part of here in DC. At the event was an artist who takes stories from classic operas and turns them into story books for children. Her speech, though rallied through a translator, was remarkable. She stressed that opera was very important to culture, and it was important to teach children from a young age to appreciate this art form. This is right up my alley. I ate it all up, and I can guarantee that my children will have those books someday.
Friday night I visited the French Embassy for the 2nd Annual "Euro Night." At this exhibition, all EU countries set up booths with food and drink. Then, DC citizens (who spent $25 to get in) could go around and sample regional fare. Before the event started, I stopped at the Danish booth. The guys there were so Danish looking. They were all about my age, clutching Carlsbergs. My-oh-my did that bring back the memories. I found out one of them was from Aalborg, and maybe tried a little too hard to make him be my friend. But my friend request was denied, as I was a little too desperate to acquire a Danish connection.
The rest of the night was a success, passing out Irish cheeses to the masses. A Swedish hip-hop artist played, and the diplomats and I had a good chuckle over the scene of drunken debauchery. So all in all, some bonding going on. Please like me!!!
So that is a summary of what has been happening in my life. I wish I had some keen introspection to offer this week, something inspiring or thought provoking. But alas, I have none to offer at this moment. These past weeks I have been trying to catch up to myself. I am also thinking a lot about the future, and am looking into educational opportunities after graduation. With all the commotion, I and am finding it hard to stay connected with friends as my life is moving 1,000 miles an hour. So I hope that those who care to know about my life can read this blog and take comfort in the fact that I am thinking of you all, and wish the best for you.
The new name is "Wanderlust." This is derived from the German word "Fernweh" which is literally "an ache for the distance." I think this name suits the blog well. Change is here.
Lots of things have happened in my life lately. Lots of things that are cause for celebration. Every weekend since I have started at the Embassy, I have attended a party. Two weeks ago was a reception for the Order of the Ancient Hiberians, an organization of Irish-American Catholic men. This was at the residence of His Excellency the Ambassador of Ireland. The residence is quite amazing. There is a (very cute) resident chef, and also, a swimming pool. I think maybe I will try very hard to be friends with the Ambassador's wife so that I can go swim in these last few warm days. Though, that scenario is highly unlikely.
I have also attended a press conference, where I was undoubtedly the youngest in attendence. One particular one was an Internet Summit hosted by the FCC. I got so much out of that. And when I say so much, I mean so much free stuff. Lots of sodas were snuck into my backpack that day. I don't know if I have made this known, but I am minoring in "Shameless Thievery." While I definitely had no idea what was going on at this conference, it felt amazing to have people think that I did.
Among my favorite activities since I have started here are the trips to the other embassies. Last Thursday night, I visited the Italian Embassy for an Opera discussion with the conductor of the Kennedy Center's "Barber of Seville." I was invited to this event through my Italian Language Club that I am a part of here in DC. At the event was an artist who takes stories from classic operas and turns them into story books for children. Her speech, though rallied through a translator, was remarkable. She stressed that opera was very important to culture, and it was important to teach children from a young age to appreciate this art form. This is right up my alley. I ate it all up, and I can guarantee that my children will have those books someday.
Friday night I visited the French Embassy for the 2nd Annual "Euro Night." At this exhibition, all EU countries set up booths with food and drink. Then, DC citizens (who spent $25 to get in) could go around and sample regional fare. Before the event started, I stopped at the Danish booth. The guys there were so Danish looking. They were all about my age, clutching Carlsbergs. My-oh-my did that bring back the memories. I found out one of them was from Aalborg, and maybe tried a little too hard to make him be my friend. But my friend request was denied, as I was a little too desperate to acquire a Danish connection.
The rest of the night was a success, passing out Irish cheeses to the masses. A Swedish hip-hop artist played, and the diplomats and I had a good chuckle over the scene of drunken debauchery. So all in all, some bonding going on. Please like me!!!
So that is a summary of what has been happening in my life. I wish I had some keen introspection to offer this week, something inspiring or thought provoking. But alas, I have none to offer at this moment. These past weeks I have been trying to catch up to myself. I am also thinking a lot about the future, and am looking into educational opportunities after graduation. With all the commotion, I and am finding it hard to stay connected with friends as my life is moving 1,000 miles an hour. So I hope that those who care to know about my life can read this blog and take comfort in the fact that I am thinking of you all, and wish the best for you.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Who needs sleep?
I probably shouldn't be blogging from the Embassy, but I have a some down-time, so why not? Especially when I have a hilarious story to tell.
So the other night I woke up my roommate Kelsey because I was screaming in my sleep. When she jumped off the top bunk fearing for her life, she woke me up.
"Kelsey! I just had a dream we were at Ted Kennedy's grave, and these lavender ghosts were chasing us!" Hilarious. Poor Kelsey must think I am insane.
But now, I too, think I am freakin nuts.
Just now I opened my Iphone's notes to add something to a list. Wherein I found a note, created by me, at 3:38 this morning. This is what the note (to myself) said:
NYC orange city clenup.
Good to know. Glad I wrote that down. WTF? Apparently, I had a very important note to take in my sleep. I am so ashamed that I am that type of person.
I LITERALLY make lists in my sleep. While I should seek help about this, for now, I find it terribly amusing. For those of you who are interested, I took a moment to look into the possible meaning of this note. What I can configure is that I had a dream about these things, and felt it was important enough to write down. So, here are some common dream meanings of a) NYC, b) the color orange, and c) "clenup" which I presume to be "cleanup."
A) NYC
The "hub of the world."
1. To be alone in New York City without any friends or companions is symbolic of being totally on your own. Whatever projects or enterprises you're facing right now are likely to have to be done almost entirely on your own.
2. The bright lights of New York City at night, especially if they blink on and off, symbolize an encouraging message that the solution to a problem you've been wrestling with will come to you in a bolt of inspiration.
Hm. Okay, I can live with that.
B)The Color Orange
Orange symbolizes drive and ambition. It is an energizing color often prominent in career dreams.
Satisfactory to me. But what about this cleanup business?
C) Cleaning
To dream that you are cleaning, implies that you are removing some negativity in your life and overcoming major obstacles. You are moving ahead toward a new stage in your life.
So I don't have much time for analysis, I would say that this dream is related to my job here at the embassy. That I am alone, and trying very hard. Which is true. This also tells me that perhaps I shouldn't be blogging at work....bye now!
So the other night I woke up my roommate Kelsey because I was screaming in my sleep. When she jumped off the top bunk fearing for her life, she woke me up.
"Kelsey! I just had a dream we were at Ted Kennedy's grave, and these lavender ghosts were chasing us!" Hilarious. Poor Kelsey must think I am insane.
But now, I too, think I am freakin nuts.
Just now I opened my Iphone's notes to add something to a list. Wherein I found a note, created by me, at 3:38 this morning. This is what the note (to myself) said:
NYC orange city clenup.
Good to know. Glad I wrote that down. WTF? Apparently, I had a very important note to take in my sleep. I am so ashamed that I am that type of person.
I LITERALLY make lists in my sleep. While I should seek help about this, for now, I find it terribly amusing. For those of you who are interested, I took a moment to look into the possible meaning of this note. What I can configure is that I had a dream about these things, and felt it was important enough to write down. So, here are some common dream meanings of a) NYC, b) the color orange, and c) "clenup" which I presume to be "cleanup."
A) NYC
The "hub of the world."
1. To be alone in New York City without any friends or companions is symbolic of being totally on your own. Whatever projects or enterprises you're facing right now are likely to have to be done almost entirely on your own.
2. The bright lights of New York City at night, especially if they blink on and off, symbolize an encouraging message that the solution to a problem you've been wrestling with will come to you in a bolt of inspiration.
Hm. Okay, I can live with that.
B)The Color Orange
Orange symbolizes drive and ambition. It is an energizing color often prominent in career dreams.
Satisfactory to me. But what about this cleanup business?
C) Cleaning
To dream that you are cleaning, implies that you are removing some negativity in your life and overcoming major obstacles. You are moving ahead toward a new stage in your life.
So I don't have much time for analysis, I would say that this dream is related to my job here at the embassy. That I am alone, and trying very hard. Which is true. This also tells me that perhaps I shouldn't be blogging at work....bye now!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Friends of the Road
All lonely and huddled up in DC, I decided to get on skype to hang out via internet with a familiar voice- or, um, screen name. A friend and I got to talking about friendship. We talked about the people we grew up with, and how much we feel that we are slipping away from those bonds of friendship. As our lives change, so do our friends. At times, it can seem so sad to leave friends behind, when you were just finally finding someone that you shared something in common with. This got me to thinking about something.
When I was a pre-teen (10? 11?) my mother sent me and a bunch of my friends to a conference for girls, where they talked about all sorts of things. The subjects ranged from exercise to sex to reading the bible. While this memory is foggy, one thing I remember is a talk a woman gave us on friendship. She said there are two types of friends- Friends of the Road, and Friends of the Heart. Friends of the Road are with you for a particular point on your journey, and then get off when it is convenient for them. Friends of the Heart are there for you always.
How much is friendship like being on the metro? People get on and off, some riding with you for a long while before they reach their stopping point. Those people are friends of the Road. But then, there are those who are with you for your full journey. They are determined to reach the same destination as you.
When I think back to the girls I attended the conference with, I try to remember what they are doing now. Once brought together by church, one has moved away, losing touch forever. A friend of the road. One is getting married soon. We don't live in the same city anymore, and although once very close, we don't speak as much anymore. She is starting her life now, and I see that while she rode with me for a long time, she is also a friend of the road.
But then there are friends of the heart. While she never attended this conference, I think of how lucky I am to have my best friend. While we aren't in the same location, I know that she is my metro car with me until the final destination. While we may not sit side by side, I know she's there. And in the end, we'll be in the same place. How lucky am I to have found one friend of the heart.
On skype, our conversation dwindled with a couple of "that's what she said" jokes, and a little grammar discussion. However, I am thinking more seriously now about how times change, and how I should readily accept friends of the road, but also let them go with the same easiness. There is nothing wrong with forming these bonds, and I'm sure that one day, we'll end up in the same place, if only for a short bit. Until then, I look around my metro car of friends, and pray that at least some of them will stay on with me.
When I was a pre-teen (10? 11?) my mother sent me and a bunch of my friends to a conference for girls, where they talked about all sorts of things. The subjects ranged from exercise to sex to reading the bible. While this memory is foggy, one thing I remember is a talk a woman gave us on friendship. She said there are two types of friends- Friends of the Road, and Friends of the Heart. Friends of the Road are with you for a particular point on your journey, and then get off when it is convenient for them. Friends of the Heart are there for you always.
How much is friendship like being on the metro? People get on and off, some riding with you for a long while before they reach their stopping point. Those people are friends of the Road. But then, there are those who are with you for your full journey. They are determined to reach the same destination as you.
When I think back to the girls I attended the conference with, I try to remember what they are doing now. Once brought together by church, one has moved away, losing touch forever. A friend of the road. One is getting married soon. We don't live in the same city anymore, and although once very close, we don't speak as much anymore. She is starting her life now, and I see that while she rode with me for a long time, she is also a friend of the road.
But then there are friends of the heart. While she never attended this conference, I think of how lucky I am to have my best friend. While we aren't in the same location, I know that she is my metro car with me until the final destination. While we may not sit side by side, I know she's there. And in the end, we'll be in the same place. How lucky am I to have found one friend of the heart.
On skype, our conversation dwindled with a couple of "that's what she said" jokes, and a little grammar discussion. However, I am thinking more seriously now about how times change, and how I should readily accept friends of the road, but also let them go with the same easiness. There is nothing wrong with forming these bonds, and I'm sure that one day, we'll end up in the same place, if only for a short bit. Until then, I look around my metro car of friends, and pray that at least some of them will stay on with me.
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