The Conversation

Since the late 1990's, I have maintained an ongoing "conversation" through e-mail with a friend. We call it a "conversation" because it is conducted like a conversation. We "talk" back and forth several times a week and sometimes several times a day. It is a fun experience with many benefits. It is very cathartic in many ways, newsy in other ways, and it keeps an ongoing friendship without having to live near each other. We live on opposite sides of the U.S. and over the years, we have kept in touch through many geographic regions.

We first met in 1968 when the husbands were in graduate school together. Our children were born around the same time and we kept in touch over the years through several moves but they have moved around the country more than we. As the children grew older, and we were busy with careers, we lost contact for years except through Christmas cards. Due to a family illness in the late 1990's, the "conversation" began as a way to keep updated on the circumstances. In order to respect the privacy of both parties, the details are being glossed over with superficial information.

When stressful situations enter the lives of people, it is hard to know what to do, how to help, and saying a few words are helpful, but we always want to do more. Years ago, I read an article in the old Reader's Digest about a situation where one person wanted to help another but the traditional cards and flowers just didn't seem to be quite enough. The main idea of the article was that people can be there for each other, not just for a crisis, but over "the long haul", through thick and thin, to also share the good times with people. I have read that widows have a continuing problem through their circumstances whereby people are there during the crisis and slowly fade away. The ensuing loneliness of being a widow can become problematic. No longer part of a couple, the widow experiences the loss of friendships as well as the loss of the spouse. My take away from the article was that if people really want to do something for others, just being there for the long haul is the most meaningful thing one can do for others. The author of the article talked about sending cards to the other person and keeping in touch over many, many years.

The circumstances of my pen pal and myself find us beyond the initial illness that was treated successfully with families intact and the addition of several grandchildren. The conversation has continued over the years and could have produced quite a few books, but we have not attempted to produce hard copies. It is like a conversation because it covers many topics and through thick and thin, we are there as a sounding board for each other. It is certainly cheaper than therapy but it is very effective in that respect.

The conversation always respects boundaries because with a long friendship, we know the areas where we agree and the topics about which we disagree. So we just avoid the hot button topics and "agree to disagree". We tend to agree about politics and religion but seldom discuss either. Mostly, we discuss families, hobbies, the day's events, weather, day-to-day life such as clothes we like, shopping we have done, recipes we like and so it goes on and on--like any other conversation. When we discuss decisions we need to make, it is helpful to type about ambivalence on a subject to clarify how we feel about it. However, when we offer how we might handle the other person's situation, we make sure it is just a comment that respects the fact that the other person's decision will be their own. We are very careful to respect the boundaries of the other and just say, "Let me know how you work out that one." Even if we might feel strongly about certain issues, it is necessary to let it go in respect for the friendship and recognize that the other person may need to handle something differently. The give and take of a long friendship can be very rewarding, but respecting those boundaries will allow it to thrive. We don't feel the need to be "right" at the expense of the friendship. People have the right to independence in their choices.

I have a family member who is 94 and maintains a friendship with another lady she met around 1940. I have read that siblings are the longest relationship a person can have. When a person is an only child, that relationship isn't possible  and it takes special effort to maintain long-time friendships. Years ago, there was a song sung by Dionne Warwick called "That's What Friends are For".

"Knowing you can always count on me for sure
That's what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I'll be on your side forever more
That's what friends are for"

It has been many years of fun to keep our friendship and conversation going. No matter what we are doing on any given day, we keep in touch and share our experiences. Even when we travel, we support each other through the most mundane things--the dryer broke; the grandchild won't eat; the MRI was perfect; the furniture needs new covers... It has become an experience that we would greatly miss, and so we continue the conversation. I could continue that conversation as long as I am able to type and the computer works.

The Perfect Peach

The quest for the perfect peach begins with great expectations and is destined for an experience totally unlike those expectations. We look in the market at the beautiful selections available and think of past perfect peaches void of all imperfections and the sweetest fruit ever tasted with pretty skin, and great texture that separates perfectly from the seed. As we bite into the perfect peach, we think how sweet, how juicy, how healthy it is. We think of the countries that throw out tons of imperfect fruit or those countries that shrink wrap in plastic the perfect fruit to sell as gifts. How about those companies that sell fruit mail order and guarantee perfect fruit! We get to look over the selection at the market and pick our own perfect peach from hundreds of perfect peaches.

We select the prettiest peach we can find with no visible imperfections, and watch as the grocery bagger throws it into a shape-shifting plastic bag while complaining about extra hours to a colleague. We think, my perfect peach is fragile, have you no reverence for fruit? What if it gets bruised? We rush it home to the refrigerator and hope for the best. Two days later, we figure if it wasn’t ripe, surely it is ripe by now. We figure if the bagger bruised it, that too, will be apparent. So we look at the perfect peach and cut into it. The knife finds a very firm peach, that will not separate from the firmly-held seed. So it is necessary to cut it away from the seed. The flesh of the perfect peach looks great, and is very firm, so we bite into it to find it neither ripe nor sweet. Not even a reckless bagger could convince any part of that peach to turn to sugar. Another perfect peach that disappointed. It looked great, but didn’t meet our expectations. Because we bought it, we hope the price was worth the disappointments. It isn’t spoiled, we eat the whole thing and hope that the benefits outweigh our disappointment in not finding a perfect peach.

The quest for the perfect friend can be a little like searching for the perfect peach. We meet someone and think what a great person, looks good, sounds great and we seem to click. As the friendship progresses, we start to see the issues about which we disagree, and the annoying little habits that with time start to drive us crazy. We start to wonder if the time invested in the friendship is worth the effort. On the other hand, I have never found the perfect peach or the perfect friend. There will be imperfections. No one is our clone. No one will agree with all of our opinions or preferences. We take what we can get out of the experience and try not to set our expectations impossibly high. We pay the price of overlooking their opposing viewpoints, annoying habits and look for common ground. We can’t throw out imperfect peaches and we can’t throw out imperfect friends. Look in the mirror.