The word “friends” is over used. People say “I have lots of friends”. That can mean anything. It could be “he is a friend because we were at a party together”. Or, “he is a good friend because we serve on the church council together”. Or “we work together”.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Those are all friends. The truth is most of us have only have a few people in life that we really connect with. It is obvious from Grasshopper No.5’s blog that her friend Shea is moving on. They have shared a lot. They have supported each other in difficult times. They have silly, stupid video recordings that they made as kids that still make them laugh. Apparently, Shea has found a special guy in a “far away” city (2 hours from Minneapolis) along with a new job that could open up career opportunties. So there will be a vacuum created for both Shea and Grasshopper No.5. There is a reason that they got to spend so many special occasions together. The reason is not always apparent.
When I was in high school, I had lots of friends. Most were the result of playing football, basketball and baseball. I came to learn that fellow athletes were indeed friends, but in a very shallow way. Of course, my being somewhat independent (I’ve been called worse) might have had something to do with it. I didn’t let too many people get very close to me. I did have one buddy that I did connect with. He demanded nothing. He was fun to be with and the common thread of interest was shooting a basketball. He lived with his single mom. His name was Charlie Gertz. For about 2-3 years we would play basketball on the playground. The two of us would shoot baskets for hours and hours. We played “Around the World”, “21”, “Horse”, and of course “Name Your Shot”. Charlie had a keen sense of humor. Sharing time was very easy and it seemed like I knew his thoughts. Charlie never played organized sports but may have been one of the best shooters of a basketball I ever met (except for me).
Just like Shea, Charlie moved on, as did I. I began to spend spare time with your Mom and Charlie found getting drunk at the local 18 year old minor bars was fun. So we went in different directions. But for a small part of my life, a guy named Charlie played a major role. We had fun together. We learned life lessons together. He was a “real” friend.
So, as Grasshopper No.5 moves on (and also Shea), they will find that the years of sharing were a base to build on. It is not lost. It is an integral part of life’s process. Nobody ever figures out the total real meaning of special friends. Nobody ever forgets. Be thankful that, for a few precious moments, a real friend was in your life.
Love,
Dad