Packing up Bittersweet Memories

I spent a few weekends in June, in Cleveland, helping my friend pack up her household items. She had sold her house and would be moving into a rental, until she decides where her permanent move will take her. I have a special attachment to my friend, as well as her house.

I’ve known my friend for well over 40 years. We’ve known each other from when we were first married, through our husbands’ medical school years, internship and residency, through the joy of our children, and the pain of our divorces. Both of our families lived together for a few month; husbands, wives, five children under the age of four, a cat, and a huge Great Dane.

We have kept our friendship connected through our phone calls, humorous cards, and emails. My friend’s beautiful home became a safe harbor the first year of my separation. I couldn’t wait for Fridays to throw my overnight bag into the car and drive to her house. I found the spare key under the Mickey Mouse statue, unlocked the door, and settled in with a cup of tea. I was finally able to breathe and relax in her comfortable chair, all the petting her dog, Bear, as he placed his head on my lap.

My friend’s house, besides being my safety net, was the one place that I felt happy and normal. During those weekends, we had fun, bought food, and made some fantastic meals. We shared a lot of good times in her house. We laughed a lot during the funny movies we watched. We shared a river of tears through our memories of the past. I stayed in her adult daughter’s bedroom. The bed was comfortable and that seemed to be the only time that I managed to sleep through the night.

No matter what, we knew that we could visit each other via the turnpike in a time frame of two hours. We knew no matter what, we would look after each other and have each other’s back.

This weekend was my final weekend to help her pack, and of course have one more good night sleep. But it was hard packing up those memories, even though I was able to choose a few cherished items to take from my friend’s house. The items included: a framed picture of a Native American woman, a very cool pitcher, a small wooden chair, and a few other things. I did take two fat ceramic hens that I would name one E and the other Laine. They are both sitting on my china hutch, a constant reminder of my friend. But I have to smile at the last thing that she gave me…the dust ruffle and beautiful bed cover from her daughter’s bed.

I’ll miss you, Elaine. Thanks for your gift – of friendship.