Beyond In-between

I’ve lost one of my best friends.

She didn’t die. She didn’t move away. She didn’t stop speaking to me because I stepped over the line about her kids, husband, mother, dog, weight, hair, housekeeping, or political opinions. No.

She went back to work.

Technically speaking, I’m a stay-at-home mom. I worked liked a dog volunteering for the Obama campaign for almost two years. And I had a short-lived job just a few months ago. Now I do this. But everything’s been time-flexible. Generally speaking, if I wanted to go out to lunch, I did. If I needed to pick up the kids, I could. And when I think about the circle of friends I’ve acquired, the majority of them are the same: stay-at-home moms or people with odd or flexible work schedules. Very few 9 to 5-ers.

So now, my friend has a new job — a great job — that has real, grown-up, set hours. And fortunately she loves it. But she went through a sort of mourning period during the weeks leading up to her start date, knowing she’d “never again” take her kids to swim class or meet a girlfriend for coffee. And as much as I wanted to pretend that I’m not terribly sad about it, I am. I’m like the little kindergartener whose best friend is put in a different first grade class. We know we’ll see each other on the playground, but it just isn’t the same.

I think what I’m most upset about is that now I’ll have to work so hard. Because grown-up relationships take effort. When ninety percent of your friends live in other states, you have to call, email, and cultivate. Otherwise, you find yourself going one year or five years or even more not talking to the people who knew you when you were young and stupid and really you. The people who would probably give you a kidney if you needed one. The people with whom you said you’d never lose touch.

But then, all of a sudden, you barely have time to comb your hair, let alone write an email. Soon local friends are the ones on your radar — the ones you meet at ballet classes, see at birthday parties, and run into during pick-up’s at school. The easy ones. The ones that fit in-between. And if you’re really lucky, you find some good ones in that bunch.

Which is why my working friend and I are making great efforts to stay connected. We’re setting up lunches (time-constrained and near her office, of course), making play dates, and emailing. Because we’re the people who knew each other when we were older and stupid and really us. And we’re trying to not be the people who lose touch. Because who knows — one of us may need a kidney some day.