I have moved a few times now. To different towns and cities. I've had to say good-bye to many friends and make many more.
It is hard to explain what it's like to care about every single person you create a friendship with. I have found it a burden. Something I cannot switch off.
For many years, making friends with neighbours was something I didn't do. I was a uni student, then a brand new teacher. I wasn't confident, or charismatic enough for people to want to deal with me knocking at the front door, introducing myself. Would they like me? Would I like them?
Then, we moved into this quiet little street in South Bathurst. I had just picked up my very first puppy. Possum was divine. She was the tiniest, fluffiest, sweetest little thing. She came from such a nice home. (I still think of the breeders and their children, often.)... anyway, I'm getting side tracked.
So, I stepped out of the car, with my 1.1kg dog in a bulk Allens Redskins box and walked to go inside. I hear this voice. "Hi there! And what have you got there!?" My across the road neighbour, who I hadn't met (having only lived in the street for a few weeks), was warmly reaching out to me, to come over. We had received a card in the mail days earlier, welcoming us to the street, so it seemed appropriate.
Di was and still is, one of the warmest people I know. She loves her cats, her dogs who have passed away, her husband and her two children. From that moment on, Di and I became friends. An unlikely couple, as she was retired and I was only 22. We shared long chats, wine and the occasionally a BBQ gathering. I still consider Di a very good friend.
She was the beginning of my love for new people. I had never been very brave, until Di. When I realised I had been missing out on all the good people, I had to try harder.
I often wonder if the people since then, think of me, the way I think of them. Fond memories. Kind thoughts. Best wishes.
That question was answered just a few weeks ago, when a dear ex-neighbour named Zel, called me. She was/is a housebound retiree who I used to visit as often as possible. We didn't live next door to her for long, but she sends us Christmas and Easter cards, every year. She asks after Possum & Ruby. She was sad to hear that our rabbits are no longer with us. A caring, beautiful soul.
I must remember to take some fancy cheese to her, next time we're in Bathurst.
As I tear up, thinking of the people I have be-friended, lost and sometimes just drifted away from, I am trying to think of this burden as a blessing. So that everyone who has come into contact with me, can know that they have been loved.
For exactly who they are.
