Somewhere-Down-the-Road Moments

Growing together but separately (Cicada Hills, Lorega, Bukidnon: 2017)

"Somewhere down the road, our roads our gonna cross again. It doesn't really matter when. . . ."  There probably was no relationship I said goodbye to without singing this song at some point. Although I've stopped believing in (and wanting to) cross paths again and have a second try with any of my ex's, I've always kept my heart open to very special female friends.

One of the blessings and joys of this difficult year is crossing paths again and reconnecting with two very good friends with whom I had lost contact for more than a decade.

LM and I used to rent a house together before I got married.  Our lives slowly drifted apart as motherhood and career moves brought our paths apart. Our efforts to re-connect over the last decade amounted to nothing more than catching the Cats musicale at the CCP in 2010. Little did I know that my job-hunting efforts would bring LM back to my life. The moment we saw each other and heard each other's laughter at the panel interview for my recruitment process, I felt I had to see L again and catch up no matter what came out of my job application. The lunch date and text messages that followed only reaffirmed my metaphor for my relationship with L from way back.  Our friendship was like a cross stitch project.  Some days we would make extra effort to be together and nurture our relationship; other times we'd drop out as can sometimes happen with a cross stitch project. Any time we pick up, though, it feels like there's an intimate familiarity and closeness so that it would feel like we've never really been apart. So much has changed individually and between the two of us, but it also feels like not much had changed. We have a rich memory bank to look back to but also a deeper desire to reconnect and discover the new us.

Losing OF, one of my closest friends, at the time when I was going through marital crisis left me feeling like Jonah in the belly of a whale. This was because she had always been there during the most trying times in my life.  She was with us as I labored in childbirth even before my obstetrician arrived. She was the first person I told of my marital woes. Her decision to stay away from me left a big hole in my heart, aggravated by the fact that we had common friends we both remained connected to.  That meant two sets of  Christmas get-togethers - one with me and another with her,  friends having to warn us of each other's presence in gatherings, and either of us missing some milestones in our friends' lives. Although there were times when I would almost succumb to the thought that we'd probably never be friends again, a part of me remained hopeful and knew in my heart of hearts that we would one day pick up the pieces of our friendship. What a joy it was for me then when we ended up having dinner together after attending the funeral rites for the father of our common friend. And when she asked me to join their getaway together with other Davao-based friends which happened to fall on her birthday, my heart jumped with delight.  Our time in Davao felt like the old times. . . and more. It reminds me of that scene in a movie when the character, after throwing piece after piece of plates after finding out that her husband had an one-night affair with her sister, started making a mosaic of the broken pieces of the plates on the wall. A beautiful work of art came out of her pain and anger. Although we didn't really talk about what happened to us, except in passing, I felt a quiet sense of peace and joy as we said goodbye on my departure.

Crossing paths with dear friends is a valuable gift. I may not be materially blessed in the way that I had wanted to be, but this year gifted me with one of life's greatest gifts, the gift of good friends. Nurturing friendships may not always be easy, but very few things are more rewarding. Aristotle must have known real friendships to be able to say that "friendship is a slow ripening fruit."