The Tale of Two Friendships

I saw my friend Denah this week. By itself, that sentence, "I saw my friend Denah this week," is not so remarkable. The thing is, my friendship with Denah exists entirely in the context of an annual gathering on the occasion of Groundhog Day, February 2nd.

I met Denah at a Groundhog Day party, one that my dear (best ever) neighbor Barbara holds every year on February 2, about 6 or 7 years ago. From the first, Denah and I hit it off. We dove into the deep end of conversation that first night, discussing spiritual matters of great importance to us both. I left the party with a sense that this woman had been a real gift to me. Since then, as she has reappeared on each February 2nd of my life, I have had the opportunity to report in on my adventures, as she has had with me. It continues to be a friendship of great sweetness and remarkable strength. It is quite extraordinary.

Seeing Denah this year reminded me of my good friend Lynne, who died in 2002. The two of them are unlike each other, but the friendships themselves have a similarity. Here's how I met Lynne: for many years, 10 to be exact, I took a particular BART train in the morning to my job in San Francisco. I am a creature of habit, and I had a particular place where I liked to stand to catch the train, because it positioned me well for the exit I wanted take once I reached my destination. It turned out there was another woman who was like me in this way, and one day one of us broke the unspoken 'no talking in line' rule. I can't remember if it was me or Lynne, but she or I asked the other what book she was reading. That did it! After that, we never stopped talking. And, as it turned out, having 30 to 35 minutes together, 5 days a week was actually quite a lot of time with which to build a friendship. From then on, we sat together from North Berkeley to Embarcadero (where I exited) and talked, or read, for several years, until Lynne got sick with her fatal illness.

Lynne was a highly skilled nurse practitioner, and she knew full well what her prospects were when she broke the news to me. By then, she and I had gotten together only once outside of the context of our BART-ride friendship, but I was moved to ask if I could be a part of her support system, and she agreed. I joined a circle of Lynne's closest friends, and it was surprising to me that they had all heard of "Joan from BART."

What I want to say about both of these friendships, aside from how deeply grateful I am for them, is that they are in large measure the product of a characteristic I've shared with these two women, that of constancy. This is a quality that doesn't get much play in our culture anymore, as fast-paced as it is.

Now, I am not saying I am a paragon of this virtue. I too can abandon myself in the face of stress or depression. I am saying that it is good to be reminded of what I can gain by remaining faithful, being constant to myself and those who matter to me. Thank you Denah and Lynne.