This weekend was one of those rare, magical weekends that don’t come too often. Excitement, happiness, contentment and fufillment filled the air…and also fear, uncertainty and doubt as well. Odd that all of this could be wrapped up in one tight 36-hour commercial-free marathon…
The roomate and I had several friends from undergrad come to visit. Seth is in medical school as well, in Toledo. His wife Laura is also on the path to academic righteousness, pursuing a grad degree in special education. Their friend of two years, Albert (again, another intellectual and future doctor) came to join the fun as well. Kate made the trip up from Louisville. The weather was indescribable…the perfect pre-autumn setting. Warm days, cool nights. Trees on the verge of exploding into color. We hit some favorite local attractions, ate some wonderful ethnic food and induldged in some hardworking craftsmanship and labor on Saturday. The problem is, it scared the hell out of me.
As we lay on the front porch on Sunday afternoon after church, bellies full of Indian goodness, I was struck with the panic and saddness that usually accompanies The Sunday Blues. Everyone would be leaving soon, none of us knowing when we’d see our northern-bound friends again. Adult life and responsibility keeps us all apart for far too long. Involved with clinical internships, student teaching, freelance projects and every day bustle…we’re lucky to see each other twice a year. It’s like losing a limb each time, and it never gets easier. The seperation cripples me.
I don’t understand adulthood. Friendships are routinely ripped apart by distance and kept apart by responsibility. The time in our lives when we have the funds and means to enjoy being together, we’re forced to be away from each other. I long for the days of undergrad again, sitting on the front porch at 3am talking. I miss taking a break from a project to horse around and play NBA 2k. Instead, I now turn around to an empty room, dirty dishes, and a porch that needs to be swept. I share funny experiences with my notebook and creative inspirations with a machine. I watch the videos to remember what it was all like.
High school was the same, if not worse. And I’m sure future periods of my life will be as well. I hold my friends too close, I guess. They are extensions of me and I place much of my happiness on their involvement in my life. I do not feel whole without them, and yet I only get rare occassions to be with them. To me, this is tragedy.
As they packed up to leave, we made the routine jokes of “see you in a year!” — but all of us hoped it wasn’t true. It can’t be. But it never gets any easier.
