Patience

I am an impatient person. I walk fast, I work fast, and I talk fast. This is not always a good thing, of course. But, to say I struggle with patience is an understatement.

This past week, when my friend texted that her mother had died unexpectedly, I was hit by how this friendship has taken root. This was perhaps the first intentional friendship that I cultivated as a mom, and it has taken an immense amount of patience.

I met this friend on my son’s very first school field trip to the pumpkin patch 4 years ago. We introduced ourselves and realized our kids were “best friends” and spent the next hour making the chitchat you do on a school field trip. I loved her easy smile and our fluid conversation. I appreciated that she was also a college professor on another campus across town, in a very different field. She is brilliant, and kind, and amazing.

My son ended up in a second year of Pre-K, so she and I weren’t in the same school circles after that first year–field trips, birthday parties, class programs were all different. But, we still texted now and again, and we made a point of getting our boys in the same hip hop dance class that allowed us to talk for an hour every Saturday morning.

This year, we decided to have monthly lunches, and we’ve held ourselves to it. I look so forward to these lunches, and our conversation is easy and heartfelt and enjoyable every time.

I realized today that she’s one of my closest female friends, and I believe she feels the same. It’s an honor to be able to text with her at this time, to be able to deliver breakfast to her doorstep to try and help the tiniest bit while her family circles around this terrible loss.

Now that I’m on the “other” side of so much intentional work in our friendship, I am struck that recovery is much the same. It is SO FREAKING SLOW. There are so many ups and downs, steps forward followed by steps back. It’s hard. But, I’m trying to cultivate the patience to get it to finally stick.

Day 16.