The last thirty days of 2013, will hold for many of us, meet and greets of family, acquaintances, new friends, and dear old friends. There is not another time of year where we can mix with this many people that have claim on some part of our hearts.
Recently, I met with a friend that I have not seen in close to ten or twelve years. With a hug and a smile that time disappeared. We talked as if we had lunch last week. All the reasons I loved her as a friend remained, so that I can love her as a friend today.
I find this type of occurrence truly remarkable. It’s like the video of the soldier that came home from war and her dog greeted her with overwhelming wags, whines, and licks. I watch that stuff over and over because it touches me the same way seeing that friend of mine. As a proper human, I couldn’t lick Rosanne but I sure hugged the stuffing out of her. We caught up on past decades, made plans for the future, and parted feeling uplifted—there’s someone who knows and loves a bit of me.
In the next, thirty days I will attend twelve holiday functions that will include people I love. Last year at this time, I was ill and limited the number and types of events I could attend. Although there were some chances to hug the stuffing out of loved ones. This reminds me of those who are shut-in, overseas in combat, people too financially strapped to get home, and the few that just do not have anyone at all.
I, for one, attend holiday services to connect with people—to touch, to talk, and to love. I have heard many jokes about churches’ attendance being up at Christmas. The implication being that it is for show. A religious venue gives us connection when we really need it—the dark cold month of December.
As a former Brownie Scout, I recall the song, “…make new friends and keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” For the next thirty days, call someone you knew but haven’t seen in a long time. Drop by the rest home a give a Christmas cactus to Cousin Ginny. Attend the office party at your new job. Deliver cookies to the old woman next door. Stop by an evening service at the local church or synagogue, on a cold rainy night.
Make a new friend and be as happy as that dog welcoming home her master.