I've been so out of touch with just about everyone. We moved houses - over two years ago - and never told anyone the new address. I haven't sent Christmas cards in at least three years (and yes, I'm sad because now I don't get them either). I never call anyone on the phone except my sister. I can call her because she has the same loud screeching noise happening in her background as I do. My girls never need to talk to me until I'm on the phone. Then they need me THAT INSTANT. I rarely even answer the phone these days because it's almost never my friends. It's usually people looking for donations, or votes. Yes, I'm planning to vote. No, I'm not going to say for whom or what. No, I don't care what you are pitching. Please stop calling during dinner. In fact, please just stop calling.
I hate being so out of touch with my people. I miss them. But reaching out seems so impossible and if you aren't on my IM list, in Vox or actually in my office or house, there's a really good chance that we aren't talking.
That doesn't mean that I don't love you, of course. I just don't seem to have the time to tell you about it. (Please take a note: I love you.)
This life as a busy hermit crab has naturally resulted in a much smaller circle of friends. One that I have expanded somewhat within Vox, but which is still incomplete. I like my new friends but I miss my old friends.
(non sequitor: right now Peggy Lee is singing "Black Coffee." Such a great song. "I'm feeling mighty lonesome, I haven't slept a wink. I walk the floor and watch the door, and in between I drink, black coffee. Love's a hand me down brew. I'll never know a sunday, in this weekday room." Ah.)
Scott and Mike are two friends I thought I'd lost forever. These guys were my buddies for the three years I worked at Novell, and we did a good job, for a while, of keeping in touch after we left the company. We were, I thought, such a perfect set. We traveled together, worked trade shows together, re-enacted the Kennedy assassination together in Dallas (don't ask, it was so awful it was funny) and in general we made each other laugh. I loved every minute with them. (Except for when Scott was vomiting. He's such an adorable lightweight.)
Then three completely unrelated events occurred: I got pregnant, Scott got married and Mike went off in search of adventure (taken together like that, it looks kind of sordid. It wasn't). We tried to stay in touch but eventually lost the thread. Well, not quite, Scott and Mike still had each other (they were best friends, after all), but I didn't have them. I felt the loss.
Then last week Mike found my email address online (thanks Google) and dropped me a note. That evening a flurry of email passed between the three of us and it was just like it used to be. From Mike: "'Mikey' brings it all back. Scott never changes and apparently neither do you." What he is trying to say is that he still hates the annoying nickname I gave him so long ago (Mike is sooooo not a Mikey) and that we are just as immature as we always were. Which of course makes him happy. Me too. Oh, and he agreed to try Vox out too.
In addition to these two dear friends, I am back in touch with my favorite teacher of all time, Larry (and yes, I still want to call him Mr. Vilaubi). And though I have lost Cathy to the northern wilds of Portland (still sobbing about that), I did manage to get her into Vox. Miracle of miracles, she's posting (not publicly). Beloved Janis is in here too, posting photos very, very quietly. That's ok. It's enough that she's here. Now if I can just get the Vixen (aka Jackie) in here, my Vox will be damn near to perfect.
Lucky girl that I seem to be this year (knock on wood), my world is filling up with friends. I may not have a legion of them, but the ones I have are golden. I still don't spend enough (read any) time with them, but as Mike puts it: "The best friends are the ones you never have to actually see. They're so easy to not be around." This is so Mike. One of the many reasons I'm glad to have that boy (and Scott) back on the radar.
2006: the year of recovered friendship.
[this is good] I know the feeling, it gets really hard. But do yourself a favor and try...
Posted by: Yvette Ivy | 11/05/2006 at 12:04 PM
[cest top] This is a wonderful post, I really enjoyed it.I can relate, coming from a family of accidental nomads: I am from Toronto, my husband is from Umea, Sweden, we are living in SF, and my sisters are living in London and Vancouver. It gets tough, and sometimes I shed tears over it. I want my friends to always be like the romanticised snapshot in my mind, frozen, perfectly adored and adoring. Then I realize that I was the one that left. It's funny. isn't it, how much you are compelled to move forward, despite your unrealistic expectation that things around you won't have the same need for progression as you do? I also loved your post on friendship and blogging. Vox is my first time blog experience, and the whole virtual connectedness is something I have always rejected, wholeheartedly. Yeah, and I hated digital photography too. We will see how this all works out for me, I am just thrilled to have a place to write every day. It's very liberating, and strangely disciplined. Where is your fly shop? We've only been in the city 6 months. Enquiring minds want to know!
Posted by: Jennifer | 11/05/2006 at 12:12 PM
[this is good] It is really nice when you get in touch with old friends and that spark that made you friends is still there. Now keep in touch with them this time!
Posted by: Bookmole | 11/05/2006 at 12:20 PM
[this is good] I understand the feeling, but oddly enough mine is for my lost family. When I was a child all of us cousins would get together (okay our parents would get together and bring us along) and we would spend tons of time enjoying the time together. Of course as we grew up we also grew apart leading lives that rarely crossed paths. I know this is a natural evolution of families, at least it apparently is natural for my family.As for my friends I am lucky enough to be roomates with my bestfriend from as far back as 3rd grade. I also have our other best friend living right next door in her double wide that we let her put on our property. There are some other friends that I miss because our lives sent us in seperate directions but I am closest to the two that are literally closest to me.
Posted by: country_cinderella | 11/05/2006 at 12:41 PM
[this is good] I had a discussion the other night with my wife with the same theme. With a two year old, and the second baby on the way in a month both of us are having a hard time maintaining relationships with our friends. Balancing time between our friends, individual "me" time, and family time leaves little time to truly be social. I am interested to see how others approach this problem....
Posted by: Shawn Smith | 11/05/2006 at 12:45 PM
Quite frankly, having 4 kids, we sort of made our own little family into our own little world. When we try to keep up with friends, we don't "match" any more. We have too many kids, or they don't have any at all, or jobs take over during the day and nights are for family time. We can't even keep up with our own extemded families because they seem just as busy with their own lives as we are with our own. If it's truly possible to keep up with your friends as you grow older, I would suspect that it takes a monumental amount of effort (on both parts). And I haven't been able to do it. When we move, we leave our friends behind. We try to keep in touch, but it slowly, but surely, fizzles out.
Posted by: Essy | 11/05/2006 at 07:21 PM
[this is good] This sounds like the stuff of my dreams, losing contact with people I love to pieces and to find to our surprise when we pick up ages later it was as if nothing changed. Sigh I'm happy for you!
Posted by: zombiebite | 11/05/2006 at 08:46 PM
[this is good] Hey Karen,You're automatic on my Christmas Card blog list. ; )
Posted by: It's Come To This... | 11/05/2006 at 09:01 PM
It's funny, in a not-very-ha-ha kind of way, how friends tend to divide us into groups: married vs. not married. Kids, vs. no kids. I find that the relationships that are the easiest to keep are the ones whose lives mirror mine: married, working (bonus points for technology or art careers) and kids.
I treasure the friends who fall outside of this very limited definition, but it feels like getting together with them is more difficult (although I'm pretty sure that I'm the one that's difficult).Some of these friends simply disappear, feeling I think, that our roadshave diverged too far to be able tofind common ground.
It's no secret that relationships are hard. Just ask Oprah, or Dr. Phil. ;-)
Posted by: karen | 11/05/2006 at 11:18 PM
Aw, thanks! That's the nicest damn thing to say. I'm going to go stand by the mailbox right now.
Posted by: karen | 11/05/2006 at 11:20 PM
[this is good] not only can i relate to the whole keeping in touch with friends thing but what is the knack of children to kick it up a notch whenever you are on the phone...and how do they know when you're on an important call and decide its the appropriate time to hang on your leg? ;)
Posted by: haruszpapa | 11/06/2006 at 11:59 AM
Forgot to add this for Jennifer: our fly shop is called Californina Fly Shop and it's located in Belmont, about 22 miles south of San Francisco. We're about to move the store to a location across the street from REI in San Carlos - about 1 mile south of our current location and right off of 101.
Come and see us!
Posted by: karen | 11/06/2006 at 12:00 PM
HELLO IM JUST LOOKING AROUNG AND IT IS GIVING ME AND MY GIRLFRIEND SOME GOOD IDIAS. YOUR NEIGHBOR YAHHORRAY
Posted by: yahhorray | 11/06/2006 at 03:32 PM
That's exactly when it became difficult for me to stay in touch with friends. When the babies arrived! I'm now a recently single mom with two small kids (they are now 7 and 4)and have rekindled some old friendships. The recent changes in my life have made me value those friendships and work harder at keeping in touch.
Posted by: tagyoureit | 11/06/2006 at 04:37 PM
Ha, so true. Kids just love to cling to Mom's leg when she is talking on the phone. There are so many times I am called on to distract our daughter when the phone rings :)
Posted by: Shawn Smith | 11/07/2006 at 05:36 AM
So true. Friendship is so difficult. I've "brain washed" myself to believe that I like being a hermit, a loner. But, I miss having close friends. Maybe I should pick up the phone and call a long lost friend. Would I sound desperate?
Posted by: Nevada Mountain Bear | 11/07/2006 at 09:57 AM
I'm not lost; I know exactly where I am! Like somebody once said about life,90% of friendship isshowing up. But the ones you really really click with are there forever, even if they go dormant. We "lost" some great friends due to multiple relocations and an ugly divorce. Hadn't seen either in 7 years or so, never met their second child. When we were wandering on the east coast last year we called one of them on a whim. After a surprised hello, she said, "if you drive by us without stopping I will hunt you down and kill you." So we obeyed, ended up stayingwith them for a couple of days and warmly reconnected as if we'd never lost touch.Of course we've gonedark again--this is a pattern that is hard to break. But we'll always be connected. Just like you and me! And reconnecting with the ones you love and "lost" is always worth a risk.
Posted by: Cathy | 11/07/2006 at 12:06 PM
[this is good] Great post -- I find it so difficult to keep up with friends; I can't even imagine what it will be like when I have a family! It's nice to hear that you're reconnecting with some old pals -- always a valuable thing to have in this world. ;)
Posted by: Regina | 11/07/2006 at 08:28 PM