Unbreakable

It took forever to get dressed this morning. I discovered I do not own anything that's very warm, and my options for layering are not exactly stylish. Normally it wouldn't matter since the longest I ever have to be outside is the 15 or 20 minutes it takes to walk Little White Dog, but when the temperature is -4, a bit more is required. I should go shopping. (No, I shouldn't.)

I met my friend Ryan for coffee this morning. He arrived early enough to snag a table and then "upgrade" for one a little further away from the door. Every time a table opened there was a mass shift as people moved inward. After a while we were able to jump to a table near enough to the fireplace to feel some warmth. That's where we stayed for a couple of hours.

I don't remember a time when I didn't know Ryan. His mom and mine were friends. He's three years older and remembers meeting me as a newborn and telling my mom he wanted me to be his sister. It was as if an unbreakable bond developed then. We've always meant something to one another even though we routinely go years without seeing each other. It's an odd thing.

Last time I saw him was this summer at his Mom's funeral. He's back for the holidays. He wanted to talk about what it has been like since losing his mom and find out how to deal with grief when it sometimes becomes overwhelming. Over the years I've had other friends ask the same thing, and I've learned through their experiences, as well as my own, that a few things seem to be universal. I shared those. Mostly, though, I listened because having someone in your corner who gets it is one of the greatest helps.

Often, I wonder why Ryan and I have never had a more conventional friendship, one where we stay in touch, hang out when we can, do all the things that friends do. Instead, our lives have been lived separately for the most part. And yet there's this thing we have that seems to be unbreakable. Who knows why things work out the way they do. What we have, works.