Memories of Friends
“Those we hold dear never truly leave us. They live on in the kindnesses they showed, the comfort they shared, and the love they brought into our lives” - Isabel Norton. When I first came across this quote I thought of my dear Grandad. A sincere Christian, former missionary to New Guinea, carpenter, and ardent creationist, Grandad was a big part of our lives for many years. He would often come to our house to work in our large garden, or on renovations. In his last years he lived on our property in a caravan. When he died during 2002 he left memories everywhere, in the things he had made. The extensions to rooms in our house, the ornate three storey dolls house, the bulbs planted near his caravan, the hope chest with a star on it made out of different woods, and the coffee table in our living room.
Later on I thought of those who have left for other reasons, even deliberately. I took out a watercolour picture that had been stored away for years. A dear friend gave it to me. We were both homeschooled, and spent time together for many years. We loved to stay over at one another’s homes, and shared interests like old novels and crafts. A few months before my eighteenth birthday, she was the driver in a car accident where I sustained a crush fracture to my spine. The constant pain from this, even close to seven years later, has changed my life dramatically. My friend struggled to cope with her role in the accident. Her response was to withdraw. She wrongly thought we would not want her in our lives anymore. Shortly after the accident, I was converted to Christ. My friend continued to rebel. We grew even further apart. I had not only lost a measure of my body’s freedom. I had lost a dear friend. The injury was an accident. The loss of friendship was a choice, and it seemed harder to forgive. Tears still come to my eyes as I write about that time.
When friends fail, there is a choice. Become bitter, or learn to remember love, comfort and kindness. A choice for bitterness leads to jaded memories. Twenty years after hurts occurred, many people still pour out the slights, harsh words, and broken promises. Memories of joy and blessings have faded away. With God’s help to forgive and heal, the opposite can be true. Gratitude for what the person gave for a season can be focused upon. The sharing of hearts and lives was precious. The relationship was not pointless. Focusing on the good imparts the courage to continue to invest in friendships and trust people. If hurt results, and even the end of the friendship, there will be good memories left as well. So I keep on my bookshelf a small watercolour picture of a woman running across green grass beside a pond. She is wearing a long blue dress, with a straw hat falling off behind her. I look at it and remember the many people who were once my friends. This, I hope, is not mere sentimentality. It is gratitude for memories of kindness and comfort, for memories of friends.
