Shady Slope Road

Good friends are few and far between, but our family was lucky in that regard.  If our parents did nothing more than teach us kids how important friendships are, it was more than enough.  It was a time that was a bit slower paced, less hectic, and not so structured.  People would simply stop by just to say hello.  When the doorbell would ring, such excitement ensued.  Who would it be?

How things have changed.  For starters, now you don't even have to be home to see who's at your door.  We have the option of simply looking at our smartphones before making the decision whether to acknowledge a visitor, to ignore them completely, or to hurl some colorful words at them, letting them know that they'd better get off of our porch.

They say that you get to choose your friends, but not your family. The family bond is a most unusual phenomenon.  We truly love this group of people that if not related to us, we may have never known, let alone ever chosen to share our lives, but there it is.  On the other hand, we have our friends, those that we have actually taken the time and effort in choosing.  They are the other component in our lives, which together with family, creates a parallel that completes the picture.

The Christensen Family is atop the list of family friends from way back.  So far back that I can't even remember them simply not "being there".  Doug & Joan, along with their sons Darwin and Darrell were an integral part of our family's friendship zone.  Visiting at their house was far superior to anything happening over at our house.  Our house was boring, while theirs was not.  It seemed so very different over there, kind of special.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that visiting at the Christensen's was a bit like visiting the Bizarro World, and I mean that in the very best way possible.  The Bizarro World being an alternate universe, a fantasy world where everything is the exact opposite.

Joan and my mom were BFF's before BFF's were even a thing.  Joan was the perfectionist, and my mom was the epitome of the word practical.  Joan's Christmas tree looked as if it could have been in the holiday window of The Crescent, with angel hair fashioned just so, resulting in the appearance of soft lights nestled in a gentle winter mist.   Mom's Christmas tree had that special look of her generation, covered in tinsel icicles, and pointed more toward the Charlie Brown part of the spectrum.  Joan could have been on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens any day of the week, while my mom found enjoyment in perusing a good book or two while slowly sipping a Pepsi.  Doug and my dad were friends both at work and at home.  Dad drove an old Rambler, with an accumulation of Bull Durham tobacco comfortably settled into every nook and cranny.  How he loved that car.  Doug highly regarded his vehicles as well, but his standards were on a completely different level.  Any car that Doug drove was nothing short of spic and span, and sparkled both inside and out.  This was a matter not only of great importance, but essential.  

So how could four people so seemingly different remain the closest of friends for more than 50 years?  Could it be that perhaps they weren’t so very different after all?  Outward characteristics are the ones easily picked up on by kids.  And since kids haven’t developed the ability to see anything deeper, I was unable to take notice of the more substantial and far reaching attributes that made up the basis of their enduring friendship. 

Everything came full circle a few years ago. My dad was experiencing some health issues and I spent much of that summer up in Deer Park.  Dad had been sick, and we weren’t sure what was wrong.  He was confused and frustrated to say the least.  One afternoon, a visit from Darrell was just what the doctor ordered.  They were shooting the breeze, almost as if in another world.  There were stories and laughter, accompanied at times with quiet pauses and even a few tears.  I sensed a change in my dad after Darrell’s visit.  His frame of mind shifted, and I don’t recall him being as frustrated going forth.  A visit from Doug later that month while in rehab had similar results.  Doug stopped by with some KFC to see how my dad was doing.  They talked, and I listened as they plotted dad’s escape from his new surroundings.  The following month dad was scheduled for an early morning surgery.  As we pulled up to the hospital, Joan was already there.  No one had even asked, but there she was, and we sat together that morning.  I'll never forget it.

Some things are interesting, and some things are important.  It's finding that special blend of the two that makes the perfect recipe for friendship.  I learned a lot that summer, and have often reflected on that time.  Doctors can do so much in this modern age of medicine, but they can't do everything.  They say that as we age, our friends become more important than ever to our well-being.  Good advice.  But friendship isn't something that you can simply fill with a prescription.  It doesn’t just happen, and cannot be purchased.  That summer brought with it many emotions, with stress and worry topping the list at the time.  But with the passage of time, emotions tend to mellow, and they were replaced by an overall feeling of gratitude, along with an appreciation for the many things that I had taken for granted over the years, or had simply forgotten.

They say that you can't go home, that if you try to return to a place or time that you remember from the past, it won't be the same as you remember it. They're right.  Sometimes it's even better.  

Patty & Joan

 BFF's before their time!