A friend is someone who knows all about you, And loves you just the same. Elbert Hubbard
Yesterday a friend and I went shopping and then had lunch. It was a wonderful day! We used to see each other quite often. But now life gets in the way, so it is weeks between visits. Yet, when we do see each other, it’s like no time has passed
Our lives are very different. My friend is married, has children and grandchildren. Her family, for the most part, lives close by. I am single with no children, and my family lives in another state.
She is an extrovert. I am an introvert. We both like to read, but we like different kinds of books. She is happy entertaining people, even if she doesn’t know them well. I find it difficult. Unlike me, she is always busy, always on the go.
She knows more about me than anyone else. She has most of my secrets, and I know they are safe with her. It is something of a wonder that we are friends, and yet we are. She is more than a friend. She is family.
To the people who love you, you are beautiful already. This is not because they’re blind to your shortcomings but because they so clearly see your soul. Victoria Moran
Sometimes friendship becomes something deeper. It is a rare gift when this happens. These friendships become a safe place, a haven, a home of the heart. A place where acceptance is normal even when situations and circumstances are not. These friends listen and offer their thoughts and insights without judgment. They will laugh and cry, be serious or silly, offer advise or remain quiet, whatever you need is what they give you.
These friendships are rare and I am blessed with more than one. These friends have been with me in good and bad times. They have supported me and given me strength with their love and wisdom. It is a wonder and joy to know them. They are my family. They are my soul-sisters.
If you are less than 50 (or maybe 40) years old
I doubt you have any idea of what I am asking.
I am of the generation that knows about this
arning of socks thing.
When I was a little girl it was one of my chores.
Mostly it was my father’s socks that needed to be arned.
He was always wearing through the toes of his socks.
My gramma taught me how to arn.
It wasn’t hard but did take some practice.
At first, the repair was kind of lumpy
but with practice and the right tool I improved.
The most important thing was to use a arning egg.
Some of them have handles but this is what Gramma had.
It helped keep the stitches smooth and not too tight
so the sock was not uncomfortable where the mending was done.
After awhile I came to enjoy the task.
It was not difficult and I could daydream
while doing it and it felt good to do something
that helped my mother.
arning was not high on her list of things to do.
These days if my socks look like this
I throw them away!
arn, I have better things to do than arn.
This rocking chair that now sits in my guest room
was given to my Gramma by Joe, my Grampa.
I don’t know why we called him Joe, it wasn’t his name.
Anyway, he gave it to Gramma 95 years ago
when she was pregnant with her first child, my mother.
In this chair, she rocked her two children
and seven grandchildren.
It is no ordinary chair.
To me, it says LOVE.