I decided today was as good a day as any to start blogging again. I’d stopped for a while. Papers to write. Friends to whom I could tell my secrets and thoughts. There was little need for a blog, I guess. But here I am three years or so from the start of this blog and there’s a need again. Friends keep moving or moving on or are prepping to move. Getting married. Making new friends. Moving countries or states. So now, seven years into living in Minnesota things are hard again. Not as hard as they were when I started blogging, but difficult. Plus, I am currently awash in melancholy which is always a great time to write.
Three years ago my world opened up. I met several dear friends in quick succession. My one friend (who has since moved over the ocean) said, at the time, that she felt my heart open to the world that spring. I was invigorated and felt alive and joyful. I spent that summer with days at the lake where friends would come and go with their kids. We’d bring lunches and stay all day. I had weekly coffee talks with another dear friend with whom I’d talk politics and policy. I turned thirty-five that summer and threw myself a party and had many guests. Now, I look back on pictures of my party and that summer and feel drowned in sorrow. Most of the people have physically moved and some of the others have simply moved on.
I know for many people this is just a part of life. Friendships ebb and flow, but for me it aches. I love people. I love the people in my life. They become like my family. I invest in them wholeheartedly. I feel and enjoy their presence with every bit of my soul and the loss of their presence, or sometimes even the reduction of time spent in their presence, is agonizing. I guess I don’t adapt to changes very well.
One friend I have made here in Minnesota posted quotes about love for the entire month of February. One quote shared was, “It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply.” I could not agree more. Sometimes I wish I was different. I wish I didn’t notice when friendships change or care as much when people leave. I wish I didn’t feel it so intensely. I wish I could be like my husband who says, tongue in cheek, “Relationships: A mess not worth making.” Alas, that is not the case. So, I trudge through this world adoring and hating, feeling exhilarated and distraught as friendships begin and end and people come and go. It is what it is. I make no apologies because this quality is at the core of my being. I ask only for an extra measure of grace and the understanding that for some people change is much harder than for others.
Lastly, but not unrelated, I saw the movie “Frozen” today. It struck many cords with me. I got sort of teary when Princess Anna was singing about true love. Not because of the true love part, but somehow, Disney captured in their animation pure joy on Anna’s face, which reminded me of that spring and summer three years ago and the feeling of complete contentment and peace I experienced that year, much because of the many wonderful people with whom I had the pleasure of spending time. I long for that again. During the movie I also found myself thinking that life would be much easier if my heart were frozen and impenetrable, but in order to avoid the pain and sorrow of friendship, one must also miss out on the love and joy with which it is coupled, and I guess I wouldn’t really give that up. I had an all-out cry at Olaf’s summer time song. Yeah, I totally feel that way about summer. Chris thought it was funny that I was so moved by such a silly song, and we both agreed that summer can’t come soon enough to hopefully move me from my sorrow, even just a bit.