You've Got a Friend

When I left the East Coast to move to Kansas City, I knew life would go on without me. I had been very sad to leave my family and friends behind, thinking at some level that they would forget about me. I had a tough time adjusting to my new surroundings. But then my husband and I made some new friends. It was like serendipity; a handful of us newcomers came together, all from different places, and became instant friends at a weekend retreat, as if God himself had brought us together. We partied together, prayed together, even had children together. My husband and I had certainly built a new life for ourselves away from the East Coast.

Then this past summer, we moved back East. It was a very easy decision for us to make. We always knew we would come home. We wanted our children to be close to family, to be raised in a culture in which we each had been raised, to be Yankees -no Red Sox- no Yankees fans. So we did it. Got new jobs, bought a house, and drove our children across the country, home.

We have been back 6 months now. Getting together with family has been wonderful. Being able to see my parents or sister at a moment's notice has been fun. Being able to drive rather than having to fly to see my in-laws has been so convenient. My husband and I are so happy that the children are really getting to know there grandparents and vice versa. The move- well worth it. No question about it.

But I often feel lonely. I miss my friends from Kansas City, the ones who had already moved away, as well as the ones who are still there. For the past ten years, they saw me through so many of my tough times -from parenthood to medical school to residency, through the late nights of partying and studying and feeding the babies and taking call in the hospital. And although I have absolutely no regrets about moving back, I still miss my friends.

This past weekend, I got together with my old high school girlfriends. When I had first moved back, I e-mailed and called them and said, "We MUST get together." But the truth was, I was very anxious about seeing everyone again. For one thing, so much has changed: we have been through career changes, relationships, marriages, breakups, parenthood, deaths. We certainly aren't the same teens or even twenty-somethings we once were when I last saw them all. What if we have nothing to talk about? Worse yet, what if we -gasp -disagree on things? What if they don't like me anymore? What if I am the only one in the room who doesn't know what is going on? What if their new friends are meanies and don't want me around? All very mature concerns, don't you agree?

Well, I was wrong. At least partly. When I saw a bunch of my friends this past weekend, things had changed so much, and we were not the same people we knew way back when. We are more experienced (read: older), wiser (read: made lots of mistakes along the way, but have learned from them), tougher (read: been hurt, and now more cautious). But deep down, they are all the same kind, good natured, fun people I learned to love in high school. And their "new" friends -well, I should have known that these wonderful friends of mine would also have wonderful friends of their own, and what the hell was I thinking anyway??? That night of our get-together, we all laughed so hard together, that our cheeks started to hurt part way through the night. And there was not an ounce of meanness in the air -no pettiness, no cliquishness. Just good, welcoming, but real people.

That night, I made new friendships, and re-kindled old ones. It made me reflect on all the great friends I have made throughout my life. It is funny that I imagined that everyone else gets together all the time, and always has so much to talk about, and that I am the only one left out of the loop. The reality is we think about each other often, and try to spend time together when we can (Vegas anyone?). I feel so blessed to have had such great people touch my life. I hope that I have made a difference in some of yours.