Distance Makes the Heart Grow…Who Am I Kidding?

I ride a commuter bus between Vacaville and my workplace in Sacramento each day. Late last year I met a woman who became one of my closest friends, A.J. We would sit together and discuss what was happening in our lives and at work.

Yesterday was her birthday. I gave her a humorous card. During our morning chat, she dropped a bombshell – she plans to move to Maryland to live near one of her brothers sometime next year.

I was shocked. Then, during my nap, I grieved a bit. It almost never fails. I get a good friend to hang out with, and she moves away or I move away.

I’ve had the same thing happen repeatedly throughout my life. I moved away from Leona, my sixth-grade friend from Donner Elementary School. We were going to attend Peter Lassen Junior High School together until my parents found a new, bigger home for our family in south Sacramento. Then I made friends with Kathy, who moved to Torrance shortly before I started ninth grade. When I started my journalism career in Bellingham, Wash., in 1989, I made friends with another Carol, who started a week after I did. Partly due to homesickness and harassment by my supervisors, I moved back to Northern California.

During my 1989-1992 stint at the Daily Republic in Fairfield, I made friends with a reporter named Linda, AKA “Red.” After she worked there a year, she moved to Florida, where she eventually met her true love, married, and had a family. Another coworker, this time at the San Ramon Valley Times, became a good friend. Then Estela left the paper and followed her husband back East, where they eventually settled in Texas with their two children.

I call and write to some of my long-distance friends. But it’s difficult. I realize I could visit them, but I don’t have the money to drive, much less fly, to see them. So, e-mail (when available) is the next best thing. Sometimes I’m envious of those who move away. It seems they’re moving on to better things, while I’m stuck in neutral. I try not to feel sorry for myself, but it’s hard.

So, now another friend is moving away. I don’t handle change well. That’s something I’ll have to change. (Ba-da-bump.)

However, I want A.J. to be happy. Life is too short to not try something, to not fulfill one’s potential while on this Earth. I’ll adjust. That’s what change is all about.
Writing Diva