THANKFUL FRIDAY

Let’s face it, new friends after a certain age is not an easy find. When Chris and I moved here, we both felt the isolation of our new unknown. We had left all of our closest people in Oklahoma, people we met with for meals or coffee at least once a week. Sure, we had the internet and the ability to chat with those people daily, but it just wasn’t the same as face to face time. And many (if not all) of those nearest and dearest are friends we made during our college years. Now we found ourselves in a quandary of how to meet new people in a town you are unfamiliar with when you are past the age of hanging out in bars, not church goers, and not in school. Chris and I were very happy with each other’s company, but we knew that making new friends was going to be important in the making of our new home.

Then Chris died.

I have a handful of friends that I met through Heather and Terry and I love them even though I hardly get a chance to see them. They all have lives that are bit more fabulous than my own with bedtimes after nine PM. I recognized that I needed at least one friend my own age with a similar bedtime, someone who would hang upside down in hammocks with me or go roller skating. I started my search for new friends by joining a meet-up social club. I joined two, actually. One was a photography group. I met with them once when they all gathered for a lunch at a Mediterranean place and the topic of discussion around the table was everything but photography. I was one of two women at the table and completely ignored after someone asked me what I do for a living. The guy at the head of the table kept a suspicious eye on me the whole time. That group didn’t really seem like a good fit. The other group was a non-themed group consisting of members of various ages who liked to visit museums and then go bar hoping. We were all a bit socially awkward with each other and I never ended up swapping contact information with anyone. At this point I was also deep into the world of online dating. Juggling new potential lovers and making new friends became a lot.

I stopped juggling.

I just stopped looking and immersed myself into doing the things I liked doing. I am one of those people who is happy to sit alone at dinner with a glass of wine and book or journal. I am also happy taking myself to a yoga class even if I don’t know anyone else there. Movies by yourself is like a vacation. I grew very comfortable with spending time with just myself as company. There’s always that saying floating around about finding the thing once you stop looking for the thing. This is basically what happened. I met Michael, but romantic partners are not always the friend you can drag to the roller rink or a yoga class. So, I went to camp and made those kinds of friends. All without looking or trying to fit in with the crowd. I’m pretty sure this came about because of all the time I had spent alone.

I have always felt that most (if not all) of those nearest and dearest people mentioned above are my nearest and dearest because of Chris. For probably a bit too long, I felt that there was no way I could have those people in my life if it were not for him. I was not smart enough on my own or charismatic or brilliant or funny enough. Good God, Chris was funny and I rode his shirttails. I know now that this simply is not true. It was never true. I remember our friend Tiffany saying once years ago about the day we all met; she said something about what she remembers most was how I walked right up to her and introduced myself and shook her hand. I pulled her into our flock. I was not just an accessory for Chris. We were partners in the true sense of the word and we were equally good at collecting interesting people.

I have a newish group of women friends and we went to an area roller rink for adult skate night earlier this week. We are a group of various ages though I’m sure I’m the oldest and we are also a group of various skating experience. I made an even newer friend (friend of a friend) at the rink who let me pester her about skates and wheels and I learned soooo much. When we had skated ourselves to exhaustion, Jenn drove us all to Andy’s Custard. It was finally just tolerable enough for us all to stand outside eating our treats and being ridiculous. Which we were. I have a whole wonderful series of photos of Lauren jumping into a picture I was I attempting to take. We laughed so much that I was sore the next day, though that could also be partly from skating. We made a pact over custard treats that adult skate night would be a regular thing and going on the calendar at least once a month. And I know it sounds so fucking stupid, but in this moment, not just surrounded but included by this smart and hilarious group, I realized that I am like-able.

I’m good enough. I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me. -Stuart Smalley

In our late night confessions during Chris’s last few weeks, his only concern for me was that I would try to do too much on my own. This is not an unreasonable concern. Michael has the same concern because I will totally believe that I can lift the far too heavy thing or fix the thing I have no idea even works. I like to remind Michael that I have taken apart the lawnmower, replaced a belt and put it all back together without losing any fingers or needing to buy a new mower. I appreciate their concern, but I more capable than either of them realize. There was no discussions with Chris about the possibility of me moving back to Oklahoma or that for some reason I would be without a support system here in KCMO. He didn’t mention any of that because he knew what I didn’t. He knew that people would love me and just be there and that I would have no problems building a Kansas City family. It would have been nice if he’d told me that, but I also appreciate the time I spent learning all of this on my own.

Girls’ night out with roller skating, ice cream and hilarity was a balm for this soul that has been battered by winter and current events.