Distance

There isn't a person I know that doesn't miss someone who is far away. And though most of us miss someone who has died and is no longer on the planet, I'm talking about the missing that could be fixed by a walk or a ride in a car or on a boat or plane.

I have "people homes" scattered around the world. Most are in Tennessee. More are in Chicago, on internship around the US, or in a foreign country. Others are elsewhere. The point is, they aren't here. And that makes being in relationship with people difficult.

From where does your energy come when you know that you are beginning another relationship that will soon be challenged by distance? And though there are no guarantees in any relationship that it will last beyond tomorrow (for life is constantly changing and challenging us), there is comfort in knowing one will get to enjoy it for a while.

I remember telling my friend Rob a few years ago when I knew I was moving to Chicago that I hoped when he turned 21 that he'd have a beer on my behalf to celebrate (knowing I wouldn't be there). And he looked at me like I just said something horribly offensive. "Um, you can just buy me one. You'll see me when I'm 21." He made clear what I was too scared to hope for - that we'd be friends two years later even though our paths were pulling us in absolutely opposite directions on the planet. We'd be friends despite the distance.

In May 2010, a day before he moved to Florida and a week after my semester in Chicago ended, we sat on the rooftop of one of our favorite Chattanooga locals and shared a beer. It was a beautiful affirmation of our promise to remain friends no matter where life took us.

I thank God for my friends though I still don't like the distance that separates us and the time in between our visits. Here's to phone calls, skype conversations, snail mail, and warm fuzzies shared with friends that are friends no matter the distance. I thank God for each of you.


EDIT: I shared this post with Rob and he replied with this. "on the roof of that restaurant, an overwhelming peace of mind came over me. call it crossing things off of a list. call it para-kletos. call it love incarnate. call it friendship. whatever it was, i was able to turn and walk away knowing that distance no longer mattered.

i will never enjoy a beer quite as much as i enjoyed that one. love you, al." He put it into words in a way I couldn't - distance no longer matters.