Nothing puts the importance of good friends on your mind like having to start over. When I recently moved across the country for a new job, I knew a grand total of 3 people in Nashville. Yup. Just 3. So on top of starting a new job, finding a new church (among the 14,000 located in the 2 miles between my home and office), and trying to write a book, I have to make new friends.
Now, before you go thinking that the people here are mean, they’re not. They’re like the opposite of mean. Which is kind and generous and fun and really very cool. Some very nifty folks have invited me out to lunches, joined me for flood clean up days, and welcomed me with open arms to a small group Bible study, even though I hadn’t even been to their church yet. I like the people here, and I’m sure that very shortly, I will become very good friends with many of them.
But this interim thing is killing me!
I spend most of my day overanalyzing the littlest thing, to the point that I’m not even sure I’m actually acting like myself most of the time. I worry about saying the right thing. Doing the right thing. Wearing the right thing.
What if I don’t watch the right tv shows? Or we don’t have anything in common? Will I be lonely forever? Will anyone ever join me for an all-day Jane Austen-a-thon again? Will anyone come visit my desk claiming it’s just to say hi, but really it’s to visit the chocolate-filled moose?
Heavy questions, that I’m sure I needn’t worry about. I know that to make a friend, you have to be a friend. But the making takes time. Memories build life-long friendships, and I haven’t had time to make many here yet.
For that reason, I want to give a shout-out to all of my old friends. To my Captain Wentworth-loving, miniature golf-playing, Pioneer Woman queso-eating (and making), killer uno-winning, fool-proof plan-plotting friends, I love you and I miss you! You’ll always be favorites in my book!