I have always had friends from different generations than my own. As I progressed through school, our moves ended up putting me ahead of my age group in school meaning I was usually the baby of the class (age-wise). The nature of my dad's career for most of my life constantly had me conversing with grown ups, and so age has just never really been a factor for me when it comes to feeling comfortable or who I gravitate toward in a friendship, etc.
Mary is one of my 'older' friends. Older as in she is older than me, but not OLD :o) Her 5 year old daughter is my goddaughter. Mary lived with her husband in Rotterdam during part of our time there, and got to know my mum. The two of them became very good friends, and I remember always loving when we'd get to spend time with them because they were fun, outgoing, didn't treat us like dumb kids, and were a cultural connection to 'home' for us (read: English speaking and knowledgeable about very important cultural icons like Kraft Dinner and Double Stuff Oreos) When Mary & her husband moved back to the US, I had no idea that life would not only continue to sustain our friendship, but that specifically my friendship with them would continue to grow and develop in ways I had never imagined.
Mary is an amazing woman. Her life rarely seems to go "as planned" and yet she is a champion at rolling with the punches. I have had the great blessing of being a part of her family's life over the last several years, and was so incredibly touched when they asked me if I would be a godmother to their daughter. That has brought us even closer together. When my family moved to Michigan, Mary was living in Indiana, and then Ohio. Both driving distance for a weekend trip, something I often took advantage of. Last year, they moved to North Carolina. I was bummed. Now they're no longer a quick weekend trip away. As I've kept in touch with Mary (we're both big social media users which is awesome for keeping tabs on each other!) I've really empathised with some of the struggles they've had in transitioning. Nothing hugely major, they got a great house, found a great school for their daughter, her husband seems to really be happy with his job (the reason for the move), they're closer to family, etc. But the small things keep coming up, and those are the ones I completely get. The community center isn't as cool as the last place, the grocery stores stock different options for their preferred locovore habits, the restaurants are different, the neighbours are different, and let's face it, sometimes you just crave a specialty beverage from that cafe down the street... except it's now in a different state. I get that. I get not being able to pick up the phone and make plans with a girlfriend anymore because she lives 10 hours away instead of 10 minutes, I get wishing that the guy at the library had the same disposition as the intern at your library "back home"
My letter to Mary brought a lot of those feelings of homesickness back for me. Homesickness for every place I've lived that isn't here. While for some that may seem like a really sad and wallowy place, for me it's always a place of comfort as well. I can wrap myself in the memories of the places and faces that aren't right by me anymore, and it always ends up sparking really great memories too. I hope that their move proves to be an even better adventure than past ones, and I know that in time it will be as much home to them as the last one, but in the meantime, I continue to try and be that piece of 'home' to help through the rough spots.
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