The Cookies of Life

Years ago, someone gave me a small pillow with the following quote:

In the cookies of life, friends are the chocolate chips.

Lately, the cookies of life have been handing me some broken pieces. Now, more than ever, I am grateful and thankful for my friends. They are abundant and stalwart chocolate chips.

Friends come in all varieties and are acquired in many ways. There are old friends, people I’m close to that I’ve known for a long, long time. I often call them friends of longstanding. Right now I’m thinking of three very close and longstanding friends. One I’ve known since high school, a friendship lasting nearly 60 years. Another friendship is coming up on a 50-year anniversary, someone I met while we were both serving in the Navy. A third friend I met through our mutual interest in mystery fiction and we’ve known each other 45 years.

There are friends who are also relatives, cousins that I’m close to, who I can share things with. There are other friends I’ve known since junior high and high school, bonded by that shared experience a long time ago. Friends met while I was serving in the Navy, people I’ve kept up with all these years.

Friends from the mystery writing and fan community, sharing a love of books, particularly those that feature fictional dead bodies. The kinds of friends I can talk shop with, discussing our works in progress as well as the vicissitudes of life.

Friends I met in the workplace, from jobs I’ve had over the years. We’ve stayed in touch, even though we are no longer coworkers. I lost one such friend earlier this year. She lived in San Francisco and was my buddy for outings to museums, the theatre, the symphony. I’m still getting used to going to plays by myself instead of calling her up to see when she has availability on her calendar.

I have friends I’ve known for years because I’m part of a loosely-knit cat sitting group—we take care of each other’s cats when we’re out of town. The cat ladies, as I call them, are the ones who looked after my fur babies for weeks during my mother’s last illness and the aftermath—and left food in my refrigerator when I returned home following the funeral.

I also have friends in my tai chi group. They are great fans of my famous carrot cake when I bring it to potlucks. They have been sending me good chi during my recent illness. And new friends acquired in my Italian class at the local senior center who took the time to sign and send a get-well card.

I have friends where I live. I bought my condo 33 years ago and I am blessed with good neighbors. There’s a neighbor a few doors down who takes in my mail and waters my garden when I’m out of town. She drives me to the airport and train station, and I do the same for her. There’s another neighbor across the way who shows up with his toolbox to give me a hand when I need it. Another neighbor does cat care visits in a pinch. And recently several neighbors have bought groceries for me and driven me to medical appointments.

So here’s to you, my friends. And many thanks. You’ve added sweetness and flavor to my life.