Best Friend
One of my best friends passed away last year. We had shared life: our wildest aspirations, our most painful moments, our deepest secrets we didn’t dare let others know. We navigated the challenges of life, solving problems one after another. We laughed and cried and prayed and cooked.
Yes, we cooked a lot, and enjoyed wonderful moments around the table: her small round table in her small kitchen, the table on her patio with umbrella in nice weather, the table in her basement for larger groups of friends and families.
I had tables at my house, too, but most often they were far away in Africa.
But the heartbeat of it all was our friendship, our sharing of ourselves like an open book. Risky. Dynamic. Undergirded by a love we had for each other’s essence. Soul mates.
We laughed more than our share in this life. Magical moments--the kind that come when you are alive, vibrant, stimulated, creative.
All this in the context of other friends, in ever widening circles. We were far from alone. But the core for me was us.
I miss her so.
A foretaste.
One of my best friends passed away last year. We had shared life: our wildest aspirations, our most painful moments, our deepest secrets we didn’t dare let others know. We navigated the challenges of life, solving problems one after another. We laughed and cried and prayed and cooked.
Yes, we cooked a lot, and enjoyed wonderful moments around the table: her small round table in her small kitchen, the table on her patio with umbrella in nice weather, the table in her basement for larger groups of friends and families.
I had tables at my house, too, but most often they were far away in Africa.
But the heartbeat of it all was our friendship, our sharing of ourselves like an open book. Risky. Dynamic. Undergirded by a love we had for each other’s essence. Soul mates.
We laughed more than our share in this life. Magical moments--the kind that come when you are alive, vibrant, stimulated, creative.
All this in the context of other friends, in ever widening circles. We were far from alone. But the core for me was us.
I miss her so.
A foretaste.
One of my best friends passed away last year. We had shared life: our wildest aspirations, our most painful moments, our deepest secrets we didn’t dare let others know. We navigated the challenges of life, solving problems one after another. We laughed and cried and prayed and cooked.
Yes, we cooked a lot, and enjoyed wonderful moments around the table: her small round table in her small kitchen, the table on her patio with umbrella in nice weather, the table in her basement for larger groups of friends and families.
I had tables at my house, too, but most often they were far away in Africa.
But the heartbeat of it all was our friendship, our sharing of ourselves like an open book. Risky. Dynamic. Undergirded by a love we had for each other’s essence. Soul mates.
We laughed more than our share in this life. Magical moments--the kind that come when you are alive, vibrant, stimulated, creative.
All this in the context of other friends, in ever widening circles. We were far from alone. But the core for me was us.
I miss her so.
A foretaste.
22 x 30” Oil and oil pastel on cold press paper. Framed size, 25 x 37”.