Summertime . . .

It’s the season for backyard BBQs and camping under the stars . . . for walking barefoot on the grass . . . for buying lemonade from the pop up stand down the street . . . and for friends who come to stay.

We’ve had several sets of out-of-town company this summer and I’m so grateful. Life’s busy. It’s easy to put things off. So when people I love come to visit I’m always thankful they took the time. One set of friends was in the middle of getting their house ready to sell but decided to come and spend a weekend with us (we did mention tequila in the invite). Another set of friends was flying from Ontario to BC and their primary destination was the Okanagan. They decided to detour to Victoria for an in-person catch up.

These are friendships that go back decades, to my teens and early twenties. We’ve kept in touch over the years, sometimes sporadically and sometimes more regularly, but whenever we reconnect in person, it’s like no time at all has passed. There’s an incredible gift in that, a joy in having a kind of shorthand with a person, a sense that you  know the core of each other and you like what’s there. And though we connected this time in summer, when the living and the laughter both come easy, both of these friendships have been through some figurative winter storms. However, like any true friendship manages to do, they not only weathered the storms but became stronger for them.

A few minutes after waving good-bye to Keith and Carol-Anne, I happened to wander onto Twitter where I saw an agent calling for submissions. One of her biggest wishes: to find stories where friendships are front and center.  Stories where friendships aren’t the afterthoughts of our lives but the cornerstones. Where differences are respected and even celebrated. Where pure loving kindness prevails . . . stories where friendships last and last and last.

From summer to winter and back to summer again.

Because while it is the season for backyard BBQs . . . for lemonade stands and for walking barefoot on the grass . . . friendship – honest, to-the-bone real friendship – knows no season at all.

6 thoughts on “Summertime . . .

  1. So true. We try to connect each summer with friends that are scattered far and wide. Often that’s the only time we see them.

    But we understand each other – so the comfort level is immediate. Glad that you were able to re-connect with friends. Such a gift!

  2. My growing up summers were filled with cousins. All the townies spent their vacations at our farm. I’ve lost track of the cousins kids and their kids, but I’m still connected to my own generation of the family and am so grateful. We had a get-together last summer and the connections were as fresh as yesterday. We spoke our own code, finishing each other’s sentences and referencing the two generations before us. So grateful to be anchored so firmly to the past, present and future.

    1. It is nice to have that history, isn’t it? When I was twelve, my cousins and I put a new roof on our grandparents’ garage. We had a crazy good time and still talk about it. With everything we now know about workplace safety, not to mention labor laws, I doubt teens today would be allowed anywhere near a roofing project, even a family one. But we survived it and had a blast. Memories like that are priceless.

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