This post is supposed to make my readers think that I live a charmed life. Because I do! I don’t write fiction–not yet. This story is true.
Last night I made a Spanish omelet after I came home from work. The phone rang as I was eating dinner on the back steps in the setting sunlight. “Are you having a bridge of silence?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m sitting on the step, eating and chatting with my house mate and listening to choral music.”
Then we talked to catch up with each others’ news, and then I had to hang up because another friend was walking through the door. She and I drank several cups of tea and talked and laughed, and then, because she’s a far better wordsmith than I, she helped me draft a letter that I was needing help with and had asked for her assistance.
Minutes after she took herself away, the phone rang again, and it was another friend whom I haven’t seen for far too long, so we chatted awhile, and arranged to meet for dinner one night next week.
It was after 10 when we hung up, and when I looked at the clock, I felt this excited, relaxed thrill that comes after having had a most sociable, chatty, interactive evening. It refreshed and energized me as little else does. My housemate is moving to Dublin on Monday and while I am not excited about living alone, this evening helped me fear it less.
In 30 min. another friend is coming to finalize plans for our church women’s fellowship evening that I’m helping to host and share at, this coming Saturday night. I hope she can help me move some furniture so that we can put 19 ladies in the sitting room. I suspect one is as lonely as one lets herself be, and as long as I have a phone and friends and family nearby, I will never become a hermitess. For this I am grateful and relieved.