Friends

I haven’t lined up any outings with friends this week. Which is too bad, because working by myself every day in an unfinished room is isolating. Just when I feel sorry for myself that I always have to initiate contact, friends reach out to me. Three friends recently have gotten in touch to see how I’m doing--two in the U.S. and one in Derry.

As for making close friends in Belfast, someone told me to give it five years, or something like that. That’s a long time. But I realise that when you land somewhere at age 52 (now 54), you’re among people who already have their lives filled with friends and family and aren’t looking for new obligations. And friends are an obligation. Let’s say I have a group of seven friends here. I feel like I owe half of them a call or an e-mail. Between Preventable Surprises and trying to get a modest number of things done around the house, I haven’t wanted to commit to a lunch date. But I can at least do for my new friends what my old friends have done for me, check in and see how they're doing. That’s what friends are for, after all.
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