changing seasons

She called me up today; she leaves Tuesday; I’ll be having lunch with her tomorrow to say “goodbye.”

This move is unexpected but it’s time – she needs to go.

And I feel as if another era, another season is ending.  Quite without my knowledge or permission.  But such is life, isn’t it?

I remember frantically making my maid of honor’s dress – a deep, beautiful purple, for her first wedding years ago.  I remember planning that wedding in the midst of our philosophy classes, and the professor, who became a close friend and uncle-figure chiding me afterwards for drawing sketches during class of the dress I was making.  I pointed out that I was still contributing just as much to discussion and that my grades hadn’t suffered.  I think he was slightly miffed he didn’t have my entire attention…but then…I always work better when I’m multi-tasking.  ;)  He still ask her and I to sit apart.  Like grade school.  Hah.

I remember planning her bachelorette party and walking into the most fabulous eatery with the most amazing deserts and realizing with sudden clarity that I had organized the night’s festivities at a gay bar.  Heh.  No WONDER my close friend Jerome was raving about it; I should have known.  ;)  They have amazing chocolate. Simply amazing.

I remember the countless hours we spent on campus, the many walks and hikes we took, the picnics we had, the arguments and discussions about anything and everything we participated in…I remember dinners with her family, I remember parties, I remember laughing and crying and living life together.

And then that all changed.  Not sure the exact day, the exact time.  It had something to do with her marriage…but I no longer saw her, no longer had that close connection.  And then, she breezed into my life again when she needed me, and when I needed her to challenge me…and we took walks and jogs at night…in a dangerous area.  One friend said “Christy, what the hell are you doing?  That’s where I used to buy my drugs.”  After his incessant, pointed lectures, I finally stopped taking those night jogs.  He was right.  But I was stubborn and felt the risk was worth the benefit.

I remember those long walks; the cold biting our noses, the hour afterwards, warming up in my townhome, tea in hand, visiting, laughing, remembering the past.

And then, she left my life again.  This time by her choice.  A new beau, a new life, some miscommunication, and that was that.  I had no control; I could not make things right; I could not fix what was broken.

I sobbed for an hour that night.  And cried throughout the next year or so, grieved over the loss of her presence, her decision stinging and sharply felt.

And then, one day, I got a phone call asking if we could get together again.  She had found my letters from years past and missed me and our friendship.

She showed up on my doorstep with a bottle of red wine, some dark chocolate, we went to a concert…a lot of honesty, a lot of love, a lot of laughing, a lot of forgiving…grace, and peace…the things Jesus talks about…the things we struggle so much to understand and live out – covering us, breathing new life into us.

A new beginning?  Another chapter? Or the beginning of the end?

She leaves to go across the country to join her new husband, as she should.  And yet.  And yet.  There is a part of me that asks “why?”  Why must things change, why must there be seasons, why must all things come to an end.

Maybe we’ll send Christmas cards.

Maybe when she comes into town to see her family, we’ll grab coffee.

But we’re no longer the young girls who planned her first marriage, who went through college together, who laughed and loved and cried and learned.

We’re older.

We’ve changed.

Life happened.

And somehow, in the midst of it all, the One who bound us is still keeping us entertwined.

And tomorrow, I’m going to go over to her family’s house and have lunch with them.

Like old times.  But not.

And with that, she’ll be gone.

I don’t like change.

But it’s necessary, and so with a smile, I’ll accept it and let the new dawn begin.