In case you have not been able to guess yet: last weekend, I was able to escape my corner of the desert for a few days and go visit Cherished Friend in Oceanside.
It was lovely.
He is himself, as always. It is a pleasure and a comfort to spend time with him, to listen to him talk, to sit in the quiet of his house, to contemplate the Scrabble board, to take a walk in the Oceanside trees, to look out over the actual ocean.
Every now and then, the temptation to be self-conscious creeps into the back of my head; but he (a little frighteningly, actually) knows me so well -- oftentimes predicting what I am going to say -- and forgives me my awkwardness, flaws and foibles, that I choose instead to just let go and acknowledge that for whatever (very mysterious) reason, he accepts me just as I am. And a rare sense of serenity results.
I have worried on occasion that the Many Terrible Things of the past several years have made me cold and hard and unfeeling; there, I am better able to tap into my well-hidden core of warmth and be myself.
The only hard part of visiting him, is the knowledge that the time in Oceanside is very short. It is so important not to anticipatorily grieve leaving again; and yet, it is so difficult. I do my very best to stay in the moment.
I know he has a well-established personal space sphere, and I respect that, keeping distance to ensure his comfort. He was kind enough, though, to tolerate sufficient proximity to take a selfie of the two of us together before I left. (Actually, several, until I could manage one in which I did not look like a demented chipmunk.) I'm grateful.
When I think of Cherished Friend, I often think of the saying: Friendship is a sheltering tree. It is rare that I am able to be in the shelter of this particular tree, but the peace and safety there are immeasurable.
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