Time for Friendship

In high school I had two friends I palled around with all the time but once graduation came we totally lost touch.  Each went a very different direction in their lives and we didn't maintain contact.  In college I had one bosom friend and that friendship lasted until I discovered she was a closet bigot with a mean streak and then she became my mother's bosom friend, and honestly, one of my worst enemies.  

My friendships with women don't seem to last.  I've had several in my adult years but they always petered out after a time.  I missed having women friends. 

Hubby and I have "couple" friends and I love them dearly, but they are not "girl" friends.  We don't shop together or have sleepovers or meet to share broken hearts.  We go to concerts and dinner and we help each other out in sickness and worse, but it isn't "girly" stuff.  

When I got a contract with the #3 telephone company in the 1990's to provide consulting services, I worked with three women, two of whom became "friends."  We lunched together and shared life stories.  We attended family funerals to give support.  Even when my contract ended, they remained e-mail and Facebook buddies. One of these ladies was my boss and a big-time executive at the #3 which honestly, kind of limited some of the interactions we could reasonably share.  She's one of the smartest, creative, and decent people I know and I'm thrilled that our friendship has outlasted our working time together.  She no longer lives in town but we meet, periodically, whenever she's visiting family here in Kansas City.  We share books and pictures of her travels and stories of the wonderful places she's lived and visited since her time in KC. 

The youngest of the women I came to admire at #3 was the friend that you know is your friend, even when you have long, long periods without contact.  The minute we resume our relationship, though, it's like we were never apart.  I honestly thought I'd never have a friendship like this one so late in my life, but I bless our time together, whenever our paths recross.

After I retired we promised each other we would meet monthly for dinner, catch up with our lives and family obligations, and just chill together.  We've done okay as long as her kids weren't getting married or moving across the world or my husband wasn't in the hospital.  Which means that actually we meet once every three or four months. 

Bristol Seafood Grill in Leawood

Lately she's been having a tough time with family obligations and some angst on the job so I've been trying to be more persistent in our finding time to be together.  Sunday we met half-way between our residences (she's suburb while I'm inner city) for brunch. 

It's rather an anomaly that we have a pretty decent seafood restaurant in land-locked KC but this place has a wonderful Sunday brunch with salmon, tuna, boiled shrimp, grits, crab souffle, lobster mac and cheese, prime rib, ham, sausage and eggs, waffles, an omelet bar, and a huge array of desserts (as well as breads and salads). 

We arrived at 11:30, filled our plates, and ate and talked -- for three hours.  It was a muggy, rainy day -- perfect for girl talk and delicious food.  We told each other things we don't talk about with others, we shared family stories, we relaxed and reveled in warm, intimate girl talk.   Yes, we made plans for later in the month but nothing that would stress either of us or feel like a commitment, especially in her over-committed life.  We even have plans for a "girl's get-away" which I'm especially looking to with great anticipation. 

The seafood buffet only

Lobster mac and cheese

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ours is the one of the more perfect friendships -- we meet when we can without recriminations about lost time.  We understand the obligations we each have to meet and when they don't overwhelm us, we find time for each other.  With my track record of choosing the wrong women for friendships or ones where we honestly have little in common, I finally found a winner. 

Ladies Who Lunch

Today I met an acquaintance from school who had retired a year ago.  We decided on the local tavern which also serves pretty decent lunches.  She was the more lady-like, having iced tea and chopped salad for her meal, while I opted for the requisite diet Dr. Pepper and tenderloin sandwich.  The food was okay, filing, and not too expensive. 

The company was absolutely lovely, however,  and we sat for two and half hours, telling each other stories about our lives.  All we really knew going into the lunch was that we thought each, in her own right, was a good teacher, cared for our inner city children and liked musical theater.  She told me about meeting her second husband and moving to Kansas City from California and I laid out in great detail Hubby's current health woes.  

We had a good time together and decided this was something we would like to monthly.  The whole experience made me feel that I am settling into retirement quite nicely.  I am now a lady who lunches for hours as opposed to a school marm with only 20 minutes to wolf down a cold sandwich.  I could get used to this new life. 

It's So Hard to Say Goodbye

Hubby and I were sitting in UMKC White Concert Hall chatting with the couple seated one row ahead of us about our just devoured dinner. It was the first time we had met Debby and Lou for dinner and they had introduced us to a new dining experience in the local neighborhood. We were laughing and enjoying ourselves while the couple just to the right of us were trying not to listen in. Finally, though, it became evident that they were also enjoying the conversation. We introduced ourselves. They tentatively suggested that they might also like to have a dining adventure before the next concert. And thus began a long, satisfying, delightful friendship.

We're all not exactly sure of the date -- but it was sometime around ten years ago. I know we were all good friends in 2003 because I have pictures of them attending our 25th wedding anniversary.

Over the years the restaurant dinners expanded into our homes. They attended Hubby's concerts when he was still singing. We also went to movies and plays together when our interests coincided. We began to meet just for dinner -- for the pleasure of breaking bread in each other's company, not just attending an event following the meal.

We shared the sadness of a funeral when Debby's beloved sister died after a long illness. We cried together over the loss of long time pets. During every one of Hubby's illnesses, these two couples were the first I reached out to for prayers and support. When Hubby came home from the hospital in February, 2011, Nancy brought over a heavenly pot roast feast, a week's worth of food so we wouldn't worry about cooking. When Lou had hip replacement surgery, we were all there to lend him support. When Lou's mom was here for an extended bout of recuperation, we all worried about their little family.

At holidays, we met before Christmas to share in Christmas decorations and treats. We met after New Year's to dispose of the all the Christmas goodies in one grand potluck dinner. We met just this past Palm Sunday to share a dinner at a newly re-opened area restaurant.

Each year Tom and Nancy have helped Debby and Lou celebrate Lou's Day -- always around Valentine's Day. When Tom and Nancy's grandchildren were born, we excitedly awaited the new round of photos. When Debby, then, Lou, and finally Tom retired we cheered on their new interests in life. As I prepare for retirement this spring, each couple has been not just interested, but supportive.

We learned each others' foibles and preferences. We found that Tom loved appetizer plates. Nancy didn't much care for dessert. Lou preferred tenderloin sandwiches and spicy food. Debby drank iced coffee when she could get it and always has corned beef if it was on the menu. Everybody loved a good brunch. We shared our joy in experiencing new restaurants and finding good, cheap diner food.

Everyone was a classical music fan but Nancy also enjoyed jazz and the contemporary sound. Tom loved ballet and modern dance. Lou's taste were so eclectic that be it blue grass, rap, or contrapuntal, he loved it all. Debby thought Bach was horrible and would read a book if his music was on the program -- then stick her tongue out at us afterward.

Tom was our resident curmudgeon along with Hubby. He didn't tolerate poor service at dinner. He also had a wicked sense of humor, once he knew you well enough to share it. He could make you laugh until your sides hurt -- not with jokes but with his out-takes on the life around him. He could tell a great story and had just the perfect tone to turn his understatements into a table rolling with laughter.

While the rest of us were so liberal we nearly fell off the left side of the political spectrum, Tom managed a more middle line. His opinions were strongly felt and, though he wasn't shy about expressing them, he always left room for others to disagree. He never made you feel bad because you might hold an opinion he thought was "just this side of irresponsible."

Tom loved his wife. He adored his son. He thought the moon rose and set on his grandchildren. He treated Hubby as a treasure. He also had a welcoming hug to give you before you sat down in his company. He listened to our stories, some interesting, some very boring -- but he made us feel that each one was a lyrical gem. He made guests to his home feel incredibly welcome. He loved to garden. His spirit was generous almost to a fault.

This Sunday Tom left us. We knew he had chronic health problems but he never would share exactly what was wrong with him. He didn't like to dwell on it, we supposed, or have us feel sory for him. He didn't complain much. We knew sometimes he would leave a party early because he didn't feel well. He retired from Children's Mercy just this past fall but he claimed it was "simply time." He wanted to putter, he said.

For me, this has been an incredible shock. I'm stunned and, though it sounds like a an overstatement, heartbroken. Tom was an important part of my life. Without family here in Kansas City, honestly without family other than Wendy anywhere in this world, losing Tom has taken a piece out of my soul.

I know his wife, his son, his grandkids, his brother, his friends, his church will all be bereft without him. But on a personal level for me, no pre-concert meal, no concert will ever be quite the same without his presence. If afterlife is made up of the memories people hold in their heart, Tom will be around us for as long as my memory remains in tack.

Now I must find a way to say goodbye to a dear man and beloved friend. As my sister-in-law has taught me, it's not bloodlines but heartlines that make a difference in your life. Tom Reddig forged a line straight into my heart. I will miss him more than any words can convey.

Burgers at the Bar

Hubby and I don't go to bars. We don't drink and we don't watch sports events in huge crowds. So bars are just loud, crowded spots where people get loaded and act in ways they normally wouldn't.

Consequently, we have missed a dining sport in our immediate neighborhood that is quite a treat. At little more than five minutes from our house is a sports bar that serves some of the best burgers in town and on Monday nights, they lower the price to a rock bottom $3 for any one of the their speciality burgers and fries. The burgers are served just right, with loads of toppings, and cooked to order. The fries are thick and tasty. The 5:30 to 7:30 crowd on Monday nights is family oriented, there to mainly to eat and savor the tasty beers that can be a nice accompaniment to the meal.

Last night we met our concert-going friends at Charlie Hoopers in Brookside, Kansas City, for the $3 burger specials, the diet cokes and ice teas (and one interesting beer served with an orange slice). We filled ourselves up with the bacon, pepper jack, grilled onions topped burgers and discussed the concerts we wanted to attend in the fall. We sat around and talked for an hour after dinner, while the wait staff keep supplying us with pitchers full of iced diet and tea. Then we ordered dessert -- only two on the menu, cherry cheese cake and Snickers' pie. The Snickers' pie was so good it was better than a real Snickers' bar.

We ran into old neighborhood friends we hadn't seen in years. We talked for two hours. And we had a grand old time. We plan on going back often.

The Ought Decade

After reading the year and decade windup in Time, Newsweek, Entertainment Weekly, and People I began to think about our own decade events.

• 2001 was a pretty good year but it was the beginning of the end of my tenure at the #3 Telephone Company. I had a good run there and I loved the people I worked with. I was only a contractor (my choice) for them but I was employed by the smartest group of women I've ever encountered. Not only were they smart, they were also ethical and people-oriented. It was a great combination. My boss was brilliant, had a great sense of humor, and really cared about the people she employed. I have never worked with a better group of people in my life. Hubby and I bumped along. Wolfie was still alive and Fritzy had entered our lives. We were becoming very active in our church.


• 2002 was a bonus year at the #3; one I didn't expect. But the great women I worked with saw to it that I had a little cushion of time to get my life in order before all contractors were dismissed from the company. I lasted there most of 2002 though I really didn't have a whole lot to occupy me. Hubby and I stepped up our church activities and the boys were still full of vim and vinegar. I think this is the year we formed a lasting friendship with two couples we had met while attending the UMKC Signature Series concerts (one of the best bargains in town).


• 2003 was a year of change. The big event was the celebration of our 25th wedding anniversary with a concert to benefit our church. Wendy came from Houston, Lou showed up from Louisiana, and Hubby sang his heart out. The video of the event shows how really wonderful it was. My beloved Seville finally bit the dust and Hubby replaced it with The Tank -- a huge Cadillac and that never ran properly and made my existence miserable. My career sputtered. I got three temp jobs but none of them were satisfying. The worst was a weekend taking credit card applications over the Thanksgiving holiday at Nebraska Furniture Mart. Finally at the start of December I landed a job in construction which kept us from going to Houston to celebrate Christmas with family. It was a sad time.


• 2004 saw me continuing my construction job. I had a great boss and I liked him so much that the drudgery of the work kept me entertained. We continued to step up our church activities and that helped. Hubby and the boys seemed to be doing fine. We resumed our Christmas holiday in Houston, vowing never again to spend our Christmases apart.


• 2005 was dreary. The construction job had moved from its original small location to the Legends in Wyandotte County. I was now traveling 35 miles a day to and from work. The boss I had loved resigned. I was forced to give up my temp status with the company and become a permanent employee. I was so afraid of being unemployed yet again, that I agreed and this was a huge mistake on my part. I went through five insane bosses in a very short time - each one more dysfunctional than the last. My old boss helped us find a newer Cadillac to replace the dreadful Tank and the car ran a lot more smoothly. In October Wolfie, my heart dog, died. My heart broke into pieces. Though Gus came into our lives with his sweet ways and huge amber eyes, my heart refused to heal. We began to realize that our beloved church was losing ground and was in danger of dying. It was a very hard year.


• 2006 really shook the ground on which we based our lives. First the Cadillac burned in Hubby's driveway. He replaced with a 1991 Lincoln that looked exactly like your grandfather's car -- really dreary. Except it ran like a top and never gave us a lick of trouble. Hubby nearly died from a cranial aneurysm the day after Easter. He took the rest of the year to recover. I was informed a month after his attack that my job at the construction site was ending. A dear friend at church took me in hand as I dithered about what I was going to do and insisted that I apply for a teaching position with the KCKS school district. I finally did and I was eventually hired -- at the perfect job for me in the perfect school with the perfect staff. So, though three quarters of the year had been horrible, suddenly, at the end, everything was wonderful. The only flaw in the ointment was that I needed to go to grad school to get SPED certification, but even that turned out fairly well when I enrolled in the local Pitt State campus for six hours. At Christmas Hubby performed his last big concert and it was bitter-sweet. Age and illness had taken away his power of singing, not his love of it, but his ability to sustain great music for more than a couple of songs. Still Hubby was alive, I was finally working at something I loved, and we spent Christmas with our beloved family in Houston.


• 2007 found me hitting beginning to hit my stride in teaching. I continued taking grad courses. Hubby continued to gather strength. We found less contentment at church but continued to doggedly try to hang on to a dying situation. The boys were healthy, our friends were supportive, my career was flourishing, grade school was okay, and at Thanksgiving all the family met in Branson, taking in two concerts a day for four days. We had a blast and found we loved the resort town. We've been spending Thanksgiving there ever since.
  
• 2008 was more of the same. Hubby reconnected with his biological sister in Washington, D.C. and went to visit her in the summer. Fritzy died of kidney failure and Hubby insisted we drive to Tulsa to rescue a little mite of a nearly blind Schnauzer only eight months old. Luie quickly became an integral part of our lives. Our church lives changed miserably with the retiring of our old minister and the hiring of a new one. I succumbed to every illness the children at school could pass on and lost 30 pounds in the process because I was literary too sick to eat most of the year.


• 2009 found us doing more traveling than ever. We went to Chesapeake Bay in July to visit Sister, Branson for Thanksgiving, and Houston for Christmas. We finally left our church home, though it was a very sad occasion for us as a family. I started my fourth year of teaching and completed 24 hours of grad credit towards my SPED certification -- earning an A in every course. I continued to love everything about my job. We acquired a 1995 Lincoln to replace the 1991 one damaged in December by a tow company. We all drove to Houston for Christmas -- and it was the best one yet. Family love simply cannot be overrated.
  

Hubby will be 75 in 2010. I will turn 64 but have no plans to retire. Gus is now five and Luie is probably around two. We are all aging fairly well except for the bad knees and arthritis. We have friends who care for us, family who love us, and we have each other. I have a job, Hubby has his health and life. We own our home and our 1995 car. It's all good.

A Beautiful Voice

For me, his is not THE Voice -- that voice belongs only to my husband. However, this voice belongs to Hubby's best male friend and they have been singing together since 1966. He came as best man to our Wedding (left) and he came again to sing for our 25th anniversary (below). We meet now, every couple of years, and we celebrate the milestones of our lives both together and apart.

Celebrate this beautiful voice with me:

A Glimpse of Mr. Nabors

Sharing a Meal

We had a very Zen 4th of July celebration last evening. Hubby and I supplied the food and our friend Debbie supplied the garden setting. The weather was perfect, the company fine, and even the exploding fireworks around us were not too annoying.

When we learned that Debbie's hubby was going to be away visiting his own mother over the 4th, we invited Debbie to share our Independence Day celebration -- whatever that might be. In my past experience, the 4th was usually a time to heat up the kitchen and sweat at the stove frying chicken and stand over the sink peeling potatoes and chopping celery and onions for salad. Initially I had thought, that to avoid this, we would just go out to eat. Then I saw Debbie's sister's garden.

Debbie's sister, also named Melissa, died almost two years ago, leaving Debbie bereft. It is her car that we are currently driving. Melissa was a neat person, full of wonderful stories that she told with a spirit of daring-do that carried you along in them. She and Debbie were very close, living only four blocks apart. Melissa left everything to Debbie, including her old dog, Gracie, and her house with it's perfect garden. Last week Debbie had to say a final farewell to Gracie and send her on to Melissa but the house is being maintained until Debbie decides to what purpose to put it. Meanwhile, avid gardeners, she and her husband perform love-labors to keep up the house and garden with its fountain, koi pond, and wooden gazebo. When we collected the Oldsmobile from that house, we sat for a spell in Melissa's garden, the first time I had seen it -- and it was certainly a place of sanctuary.

So it occurred to me that a 4th of July picnic might be just perfect in Melissa's garden and thus we planned our evening there, with Debbie's consent. I didn't feel like spending time in the kitchen and certainly was unable to stand for long at the kitchen sink, so we used our Sam's card to collect tubs of shaved ham, turkey, and beef along with thinly sliced cheeses and a package of rich buttery croissants. I melon-balled two exotic melons (a yellow canary and a Santa Claus) and got a package of Mount Rainer cherries. Hubby made a macaroni salad and we added in a store-bought apple pie along with some chilled diet Cokes and Starbucks frappuccino. It was a feast.

We sat under Melissa's wooden gazebo, noshing on our croissant sandwiches, enjoying the delicate breezes keeping us cool and relaxed. The koi pond, with its cascading fountain, made for the perfect backdrop of sound and sight. The blue snowballs were in bloom and the surrounding yard was a riot of greens and whites from all Debbie's plantings. Even the fruit trees were bearing plentiful apples. We told our stories of the past. We caught up on current events. We laughed. We hugged Debbie's remaining dog, Maggie, who feared the backyard explosions of firecrackers and bottle rockets.

Sitting together, sharing our lives, we ate and talked until the sun went down. It was a perfect celebration of the 4th of July.

Sharing the Leftovers

New Year's Day we joined with two other couples, our concert-going friends, for a feast of leftovers. Everyone cleaned out their refrigerators and brought the food they didn't want or shouldn't be eating during the new year. It was a lot of fun and and the food was fantastic.


Debbie hosted and fed us gourmet cheeses from the exclusive cheese store in town -- truffles embedded in mild aged cheese, blue, brie, and other assorted delights along with crackers from a huge brandy snifter type bowl. Deb also provided the husbands with lasagna which all the men were delighted to dig into.


Nancy brought tiny meatloaf sandwiches in egg buns and homemade lemon poppy seed bread. I had spiral cut ham from Houston along with an assortment of ham sandwich cheese to put on wheat bread with the crusts removed. Also I had some pimento cheese spread from Braums, picked up in Oklahoma on our journey home.

Both Nancy and Deb had an assortment of desserts -- cookies and chocolate bars with fresh whipped cream, peanut brittle, fudge. Nancy brought the eggnog and bourbon. Tom brought the assortment of exotic teas.


We sat around Deb's table and told stories of our respective Christmases. Nancy and Tom had the grandkids. Deb and Lou were recovering from Lou's hip replacement surgery. I had tales of the emergency room gout visit before Christmas. Hubby and I told of warm Houston weather and Karaoke parties.

We had a great start for the New Year. Normally Deb has an open house on New Year's but I actually prefer this type of get-together: sitting around a table with dear friends, great food, family stories, and lots of laughter. Finally, we divvied up the goodies, Deb presented us each with our own loaf of tea bread and everyone went home, sated with good food, good company, and good wishes.

The Lengths to Which Your Friends Will Go

A week or so ago a dear friend had hip replacement surgery. Several weeks prior to that, on an overcast but fairly warm autumnal Sunday afternoon, our friend treated us to a unique experience. His wife owns a horse, smallish but quite sturdy. They had built a four passenger cart for the horse to pull and acquired all the requisite accoutrement, including period clothing. They are often requested at small town parades and old west re-enactments. We had shown interest in their stories and so they invited us out into the hinterland to savor the experience of an authentic horse / wagon ride.

After a lovely post-church lunch, we ambled down the highway a piece, arrived at a picturesque riding stable and Deb went into get the horse, while Lou gathered equipment. Except the horse was sure that winter had arrived and cart rides were a thing of the past until spring and Deb had the devil's own time making that horse agree to be "carted."


Lou, working in pain the entire time with a screaming disintegrating hip, helped Deb with the mare and also heaved and toted and carried and buckled and generally did a yeoman's job. Hubby and I watched in amazement from the sidelines.


The gear for the horse is gorgeous -- all leather and studs.


Then the cart came out of the trailer -- beautifully stained wood and hunter green paint -- and perfect in size and shape.

The horse relented, was harnessed, and we heaved ourselves into the cart -- and then the fun began. Lou drove and we were whisked back into time, riding gloriously happy behind the mare.

Up and around the trails we rode, at first clutching the sides with white knuckles, but eventually realizing this was a lot more fun that we had thought.

Eventually we all tired, and we clamored down. Lou and Deb had another hour's work ahead of them but they sent us onward, saying the drudgery was in the details and they wanted us to remember only the fun.

And what fun it had been.

Now Lou has a new hip and is in recovery, doing just fine, thankfully. We're glad, not only because we want our friend hale and hearty for our concert gigs but also -- we hear they have a boat, too . . . .