Friends
Sitting with Silence Shining
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I begin my
days with a loose routine of morning readings, nothing cast in concrete, but
generally start with the poet Rumi. This epitomizes the week.
“But for us
this day is Friends sitting together with silence shining in our faces.”
If
friendship were a basket, this week the basket is large and we filled it to the
brim.
Leo
announced his birthday. He’s an old soul in a thirty-five year young body. I
quickly put a peach/mango crisp in the oven. Leo noted that Ana and Michelle
had invited us out to their casa twice and for various reasons, we had
declined.
We plotted,
pulled the treat from my oven, and drove out to Oconahua. At their gate, I
phoned Michelle. “We are here to share.” It was perfect. They are in the middle
of a couple construction projects, so we ate dessert, visited just the right
amount of time and left, everybody happy.
Winding our
way through convoluted streets in the small village, I renewed my love for this
country. Stuck in my own yard weeks on end, sometimes I fail to “see”. With all
the rains this year, this lush country is more vigorous, more luxurious with
vegetation than I’ve ever seen. The laguna is full to the rock-wall boundaries,
no longer room for the cattle to graze around the edges. Returning home, I was
able to “see” the changes in my own yard.
On my
calendar I had marked “R” on the 10th, 11th, and 12th.
What in the world? Oh, yes, reunion!
Our annual 1963 High School Class Reunion, cancelled weeks ago. I wrote to the
other six women in our email group, begun when we all showed up for a reunion
in 2005 in Harlem, and suggested we have a virtual reunion, and I’ll bring
enchiladas verde and key lime pie.
For three
days we chatted back and forth as able. We span several time zones. Denise and
Cheryl live in Oregon. Ellie in California. Charlotte in Billings and Karen in
Floweree. Our other Karen lives in Oswaldtwistle in England. And myself in
Mexico. We shared bits of our lives, real and pretend, groaned over foods
“brought to the table”, and even “accompanied” Denise on a zip line adventure,
celebrating her 76th birthday.
Like
frosting on the cake, Sharon, one of my favorite people, wrote me from Watson,
Saskatchewan. We’d drifted, life happens, and coming back together was like
we’d never lost touch.
I met Sharon
twenty-five years ago, when she lived in Vancouver, B.C, and I lived in
Washington. We crossed the border many times. She moved to her home in
Saskatchewan and I moved to Harlem, within a couple years of each other. Border
crossing continued, road trips I treasure.
Sharon has a
gift for seeing the whole person and loving them anyway, warts and all. She is
one of the most human people I know.
We all need a Sharon in our life.
Ah, yes,
life. No Friendship basket is filled with only sweets to eat and we’d soon tire
of that diet.
Leo showed
up one morning and indicated that I not leave my house. He was masked and
standing far from my door. His aunt was taken to the hospital in Guadalajara
with Covid. Though vaccinated, her lungs are compromised. He asked me to let
others know he wouldn’t be around for a few days and to take precautions.
When I told
Michelle and Ana the bad news, Michelle said, “Sondra, that means we are at
risk too. We were with Leo.” “Oh, right. I never even thought of that.”
So we, few
as we are, are on high alert, using extra cautions. Leo went for the test again
this morning and he is clear. Yet, for two weeks, we all, those of us on the
Rancho and our friends in Oconahua, will continue as if we are at high risk.
Leo is working
in my yard today. While he is working, I stay in the house. His auntie is
better. She might pull through.
Our
Friendship basket is woven with hope, lots of grumbles, and Shining Silence.
Sondra
Ashton
HDN: Looking
Out My Backdoor
September
16, 2021
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