Seasonal Work

The lady across from me in the waiting room at Cheyenne offered a good morning greeting, and as our wait time became extended, we evolved into a casual conversation.

She mentioned that she was looking forward to lunch with someone with whom she had been friends since fourth grade. Assuming that the occasion was special because of a connection that had stretched across miles, as well as years, I asked where the friend lived.

Oh, she’s here in Cheyenne too but I haven’t seen her since last year. I try to arrange a meeting but it always gets cancelled. She generally finds something that’s a conflict, and I try to pin down a new date, but that hasn’t worked.”

I said, “It’s frustrating when someone doesn’t make a priority to keep commitments. I’ve had that happen, and eventually asked myself who was doing all the work in that relationship. Oh, it’s me. Well, I’m getting tired, so I guess I’ll stop working. Those friendships died quickly when the other person didn’t pick up the ball. I still miss those ladies but, apparently, they didn’t miss me, and I don’t even know where they are now.”

Yes,” my companion replied. “I think some friendships are meant to be seasonal.” She’s right, and I know this, but the reminder helped me to stop feeling guilty for not continuing my efforts to connect.

Comes now the season of class reunions. If you’re one of those folks who always show up to renew acquaintances, you’ve found that sometimes you chat a moment with someone who used to be a great pal, but now have little to say to one another. The next moment, you’re deep in meaningful conversation with a friend you haven’t seen in years, and it’s like you just spoke yesterday. You realize that the commonality with friend number one was built around sports, hobbies, and activities that were connected to school. The other person is one who shares your values, interests, and outlook on life.

Bruce and I often speak of family connections that seem distant. Phone calls and holiday greetings to his siblings are nearly always generated by him. Visits happen every other year or so, but we only know what’s going on in their lives when there’s a wedding, graduation, or new grandchild.  I have no siblings, but it’s a balancing act to know how much contact with my grown children and grandkids is appropriate and when it’s intrusive. They have busy lives and our interactions are bound to be seasonal.

One of Bruce’s cousins, who lives in Texas, has been promising to bring his family for a visit for years. He said it again when he called last week to let us know his sister had died. I hope he does; we’ve loved our visits with them at their home. But I’m not holding my breath.

Let’s be honest. Friendship and family relationships take work, and it’s better when the work is divided equally. When not, the relationships wither and die.

Comes now the season of weddings too, and the same is true of marriage. It’s hard work, and both parties need to pull their share. This event is about the marriage, not the wedding. Nobody says that, but they need to.

Meet me here next week and meanwhile do your best. Somebody might like it.