What Day Is It?

What can I say about the last week and two days...? So many fragmented thoughts have still to be knitted together in my heart and mind. 

Forty years ago on the sidewalk outside our apartment, a little boy rode a tiny bike and threatened to knock my three year old off his tricycle. "How about I knock you off your bike?" I'd asked him, and he quickly replied, "My mom will call the police." Last night that little boy came home from the store with a half gallon of Rocky Road Ice Cream and said to his mom, "I brought the things you asked for and Martha texted and asked for ice cream, so I brought that too." (I hadn't, but that's beside the point.)

Friendships don't always begin with pleasantries. At our first encounter that little boy had also walked right up to me and declared, "We worship Jehovah." He stood directly in front of me as I sat on the ground watching Jimmy ride his tricycle, and waited for my response. "We worship Jesus," I told him.

While I remember those first moments of interaction, most of what came in the days, months, and years to follow blends together into an afghan of lifetime friendship. I heard her family call her "Ruthie," while the neighbors told me her name was Ann. My mother stepped up when the family needed daycare. On a moment's notice James and I were invited to her wedding in the community center at the apartment complex and learned on our way there that her new husband was the cousin of our friend. In time both of our families moved to the same little town in Wayne County, NY and I babysat on and off while she worked. We each had another baby giving each of us four (Josh, Joel, Charlie, and Drew for her, and Jim, Dave, Beth, and Joe for me). We took our kids on picnics, talked on the phone for hours, and argued religion. Tragedy struck their extended family and they moved a half hour farther out into the country. There was a barn and horses and a continued friendship.

I don't know why some people face trials and tragedies over and over and over, I only know that each one she faced knit us closer together. It's not my place to list them here, but I can tell you I have never stopped loving her and her children. Last Friday morning when she sent a text telling me the doctors at the Pennsylvania hospital had advised her to ask family members to come and say their last goodbyes to her sweet husband, she was a thousand miles from home. My daughters didn't hesitate to encourage me, for the third time in as many weeks, to make the 2 1/2 hour drive to the hospital. I sat with my friend, did everything I could to help her and the staff, met her son at the elevator when he made his 7:30 pm arrival, and made no attempt to hide my own sorrow when her husband David left this world at 12:30 am on Saturday, September 14. We spent the night at a hotel, met with a Pennsylvania funeral home, picked up her camper from a family member, and made the drive north from Watkins Glen, NY to my home in Webster. On Tuesday we headed south and I followed them home. 

I could look heavenward and ask God all the same "why?" questions I've asked in the past but the trusting Him to be there is much easier than understanding any of the "whys?" He is the one who knit this friendship together. He is the one who takes yarns of contrasting and complimentary colors and fashions the strands into unimaginably beautiful blankets. I don't understand, but I know He does.