There's nothing quite so liberating as an open road with unspoiled nature surrounding us. This was my view from the passenger window last Wednesday night in the mountain west of the United States just ahead of 5:30 pm. I spent the first 30-something years of my life in a very flat part of the Midwest surrounded by subdivisions, strip malls and stoplights. There was no adventure in going anywhere. Just more of the same cluttered roadsides interrupted by houses that all seemed to be competing with each other over which could occupy more space on small lots.
We were drinking in the vista on our way from my PT appointment to meet up with some friends who recently moved just a few miles up this road. My better half first became acquainted with them when we each lived elsewhere. The friendship took root after a series of basketball games. My guy's new friends would share some time post-exercise while I was enjoying a quiet Saturday morning, usually blogging. Those were the days when I guarded my time and waved off new friendships for fear that the conversation would inevitably turn to children and parenting. It was years before the four of us got together socially.
By then, I'd learned that they had one son, but collectively their lives had been filled with equal amounts of torment and loss. For them, multiple miscarriages over years had scarred and tested not just themselves, but their marriage. Alcohol was his way of coping. Hers was losing herself in the day to day demands of working and raising a child. At one point when the drinking became too much, she issued an ultimatum, it's the booze or or us. You choose. He chose wisely. He stopped drinking, lost weight, got healthy and started playing basketball with joy not anger. My guy witnessed the transformation and said his fellow 'baller' became a different person once he faced up to his grief.
They've since become dear friends. (When not hosting them at our house, we have to meet them in neutral places like restaurants because, yes, they have a dog).
Last summer we attended their son's wedding. It was a beautiful day in more ways than one. The most memorable part of the day was watching my guy, who witnessed their son and his friends as they grew up, and later joined the Saturday basketball pickup games. They've all become fine young men and are now taking turns getting engaged and married. We danced for hours to songs popular from our 20- and 30-something years to songs that now fill their devices. This is not a blog post I could not have foreseen 21 years or more ago, which makes it all the most satisfying to write.
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