Remembering A Special Friend

Mavis

Today, I'd like to commemorate a very dear friend who passed away very unexpectedly last Friday. We lived on different continents, me in the USA and Mavis in South Africa, but the distance between hearts is nothing but a hop, skip and a jump. We were in close touch made possible by the technology we have today. A few years ago, I wrote a story about our friendship that was published in a Chicken Soup book. I'd like to post it today with both sadness and joy--sad because I have lost a very special friend and joy that I'd had the privilege of knowing her for 29 years.

During this Thanksgiving season, be grateful for your friends for they are a true blessing.

New Friends, Faraway Friends, Forever Friends

By Nancy Julien Kopp

The tour guide stood at the front of our bus, mic in hand. “You can visit the fantastic aquarium,” she said, “or you can shop along Baltimore’s harbor.”

My choice was lunch and shopping, but I wasn’t quite sure what my new friend would choose.  Mavis looked at me and announced in her musical voice, “A fish is just a fish, but shopping….!” I nodded my head in agreement, and we both laughed. Dozens of women on this convention spouse tour left the bus and headed in various directions.

My new friend lived thousands of miles away in South Africa.  Her British family had emigrated there long before she was born.

We had a wonderful afternoon eating Crab Bisque on a restaurant’s outdoor deck, the special scent of the sea and boats bobbing in the harbor making it a memorable meal. We had a perfect view of one the tall ships, sails furled. Both of us ate with relish and talked about our children who were close in age, then browsed the quaint little shops. Mavis bought a small teddy bear for a grandchild soon to be born but was at a loss when it came time to pay. She held out a handful of American coins. “Nancy, find the ones I need to pay.”  We middle-aged women giggled like schoolgirls as I picked out the correct amount.

As the tour bus sped back to our nation’s capital, I reflected on the past days. My husband, Ken, and I had gone to the huge cocktail party on the opening night of this week-long bank convention. There had to be 300 or more people in the large ballroom. We didn’t know a soul, so walked slowly across the room holding our drinks. Another couple was doing the same from the opposite side. He was tall and slim, and she was short, blonde and a bit on the round side. We met in the center, smiled at one another and introduced ourselves.

We could not have been more opposite. My husband headed a small Trust Department in a bank in a mid-sized college community in Kansas. Mike headed the Trust Department of a very large British bank in Johannesburg, South Africa. Despite the thousands of miles between our homes and different cultures, we hit it off immediately. Ken and I had been invited to a party later that evening given by an investment company. Ken asked our new acquaintances to accompany us. “Is it alright to crash a party in America? Mike asked. Ken assured him it was OK if they were with us. I rolled my eyes at my husband but seconded the invitation.

The pattern was set for the remainder of the week. Mike and Ken attended meetings all day while Mavis and I headed for the spouse tours. The four of us had dinner together each evening at various restaurants near our hotel. We traded information about our towns, our families, and our backgrounds. We ate and laughed and soaked in the atmosphere of Washington, DC. The bond between us became stronger with each day. It pleased me that the men got along as well as Mavis and I did. Not always the case with two couples.

Finally, the last day arrived. As we’d done each morning, Mavis and I met in the hotel coffee shop for breakfast. Ken and Mike had eaten earlier before their final meeting. For the first time, I was not enjoying myself with my new friend. Only because I knew I would never see this witty, warm woman again.

I felt as if I’d known her for twenty years, not a mere week. I pushed my scrambled eggs round and round on my plate, my appetite suddenly gone.

“We must write one another, Nancy,” Mavis said as she poured each of us a second cup of coffee. We exchanged addresses and lingered as long as  possible.  When we could delay no longer, the two of us walked to the elevator and I pushed the button a bit harder than necessary.

I told Mavis how very much I’d enjoyed the week, but my voice quavered as I did so.

She put her arms around me and we gave one another the warmest of hugs. Sometimes, a hug can convey so much more than words. This dear woman stepped back and in her British accent said, “I know we will see each other again.”

As I looked into her blue eyes, part of me believed her while another piece of me thought “Fat chance of that!”  Emotion welled and the lump in my throat was so big that all I could do was nod, give her another quick hug and flee inside the elevator. The tears flowed as I walked down the hall to our room. How awful, I thought, to have such a wonderful new friend only to lose her at the end of a week.

It turned out that Mavis was right and I was wrong. Letters flew across the ocean, then later we faxed messages, and finally both of us had e-mail and we could chat as often as we liked. Now, we even skype one another.

In the twenty-four years since we met, Mike and Mavis have visited our home three times. On each of those visits, we have taken them to parts of the USA they’d not seen before. We have gone to South Africa to visit them twice, where they squired us from one end of their beautiful country to the other.  We have met in England, Ireland and Germany to travel together, spending three weeks each time in one another’s company. Never a cross word, never did I feel like I couldn’t wait til the time was over.  

We have been warmly welcomed by Mike and Mavis’ children whenever we have visited their homes in South Africa and England. Our children have graciously hosted our dear friends when they have visited here in our country. Over the years, the circle of friendship grew to include our extended families.

We clicked that first night in Washington, DC and our friendship strengthened more and more through the years. We have shared our hopes and concerns for our children. We have heralded the arrival of each other’s grandchildren, one by one. We have laughed together, we have held deep discussions about our individual countries. We’ve chuckled over the senior moments we all seem to have now, and we have savored this unusual friendship. Two couples from different parts of the world who found they had a great deal in common. Once new friends, then faraway friends and finally, forever friends.

A Celebration of My Blessings

My post today is not going to center on writing. This is my birthday, my special day of the year, one I look forward to. Not for the presents and cake so much as the many greeting cards and email or facebook messages, and the phone calls. 

It's not because I seek attention, although that is always rather nice. Instead, each year I am reminded by all the greetings I receive that I am blessed with so many friends and a wonderful family. You can't wrap friendship in a box and tie it with a pink ribbon but it's a treasured gift to be valued each and every day of the year. When my birthday arrives every May 29th, it is a reminder of what all these people mean to me now and for years past. You can't put family in a gift box either but they are priceless in value.

When the mailman delivers those many envelopes that hold birthday cards, I open them to read both the verse and the personal note or letter that comes with many of them. Each signature says Love and a name of someone I care about. Every time I see the name on one of the cards, I'm reminded of so many good times with the person or about some wonderful words they had for me when I needed them most. I think of the support given to me when I ventured into the writing world. And so much more.

I can group these people into high school friends, college friends, teaching days friends, those whose friendship develped in the different communites we've lived in during our marriage, bridge player friends, church friends, P.E.O. friends, writer friends and more. I consider each one of those people a blessing in my life. They have all added to my world in ways they may never realize. As have my family--including my husband, children, grandchildren, sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, my brothers, nieces and nephews. 

So, a heartfelt thank you to all of you who have been a part of my life for these ____ years! (Didn't think I was gonna tell you the number did you?) A special thanks to my blog readers, as well. You, too, have given me something special in my writing world.

Your Friends Have Stories, Too

The Birthday Girl and Her Husband

The picture is of my good friend, Zoe and her husband, J.D. Today is Zoe's birthday. Because I am her true friend, I won't reveal which one it is. 

I often urge you to write your family stories and I always will, but a part of your own story is the stories of your longtime friends. Do you have some friends that you might write about and include in your Memory Book? I bet you do. 

I met Zoe when Ken and I moved to Rockford, IL in the early 90's. She was one of the first people I met in the Newcomers Club, a fellow Bridge player. We lived only a few blocks apart. Zoe invited me to join her in early morning walks along the Rock River three mornings a week. We took turns driving to the river, chattering all the way. Once parked, we set off along the winding walking path that followed the river. Zoe's little dog, Heike, accompanied us most mornings. On that first morning, Zoe strolled along and I kept moving a bit faster and faster. If we're doing this for exercise, I told her, we need to move at a brisk pace. Soon, we were moving at a faster pace on each outing.

We walked summer and winter, and in inclement weather, we walked at the mall. When you spend 30-40 minutes walking with someone, you also talk, and in our talking, we learned about one another's lives. Zoe's husband had held jobs in Algeria and Brazil as well as parts of the USA. I learned a lot about what life as an expatriate is like, and I learned some things about each of those foreign countries. We discussed the families we grew up in, our husbands, and our children. We became grandmothers close to the same time and reveled in talking about our wonderful grandbabies.

In 1997, Ken retired and we moved back to Kansas. Only a year or so later, Zoe's husband retired and they moved to Phoenix, stopping at our house as they made the long auto trip to their new home. We've kept in touch via e-mail, skype, and an occasional visit. I know her story and she knows mine. I've worried over some serious illnesses she's had, and I've rejoiced when good things happen to people in her family. We send one another small birthday and Christmas gifts, one more way to keep our friendship alive and well. 

If I wrote a story about Zoe, it would have to include our many shopping trips, lunches and bridge games. Also the online scrabble games we play which allows us to add a note on each play. We are a part of one another's life. I love her positive outlook on life, her sense of humor, her love of God and family, and her caring attitude.

Happy Birthday Zoe!