Good Friends

When I was a youngish 20-something, first living out on my own, I happened to meet Doris at the church I was attending at the time. She and her husband took me home, fed me, and called often. What cemented our new friendship was when I needed to move to another apartment and they helped me move everything in their truck. Their generosity surprised me, but it was only the beginning of things to come.

Doris has been part of my life since 1983. She has hiked me up mountains, taught me how to cure olives, given me her delicious frozen raspberry jam, and spoiled me over the last two years when I visited her. She's sent me cookbooks, and has given me a beautiful carved African birthing chair that sits proudly in my study. She never had children of her own, and she calls me "one of my girls." There are four of us women in our forties, all of whom love her and think of her as a West coast mom.

Her husband has died now, and she is alone. God has put other people in her life who live closer to her and who can help her. But little bits of my heart are there in her living room and kitchen--with her. If you sit in her armchair by the front window, you can look straight up into the mountains, that look like they've been swept up from her front yard. I know fewer more beautiful places than the little Oregon town where she lives.

I was thinking about Doris today and how her influence is felt in my life every day. I'm privileged to have many people close to me who are my joy and my very breath, too many to name. Today I wanted to say thank you not only to Doris, but to all the wonderful people who give me more than I deserve in their kindness and generosity.