Let me tell you about my friend, Amy L. We grew up together in West Mifflin, kept in touch over the years. She landed in Upstate NY where she raised her two kids, now adults. She worked in the retail grocery world for like 20 years before pivoting to a civil service exam at age 50 and now working in a job she loves at a local university. She has a cat and a dog and a lot to offer this world. I adore Amy.
When I was homeless last year, Amy contacted me quickly. We texted or spoke on the phone every week. She had been through a divorce so she commiserated with me. She has been a rock, a funny and sassy and smart as a whip rock for me.
So last week, USPS notified me that two packages were en route. I recognized her address and wondered what she was up to.
Magic. She was up to friendship magic.
Amy knew I have been sad and struggling with all of the things, especially some tough anniversaries this month. She worked magic. It took two boxes. One was filled with gold boxes containing every treat you can imagine. Gold being the 50th anniversary gift, right. The other box was filled with pretty floral throw pillows, a gold throw and a gold baseball cap urging people to be kind.
She created a celebration of our 50th friendshipversary.
She bought herself the same package so we could co-celebrate.
She even bought a 50th wedding anniversary card and scratched out wedding with ‘friend’ to drive home the point.
Here’s where I say how ingenious, creative, and thoughtful this gift is. I would never think to do something like this, I am in awe of her planning skills. Insert all of the gushing.
Who has a 50 year anniversary with a friend? It is something we should celebrate more often. Friendship!
Our 50 years began circa 1974/5 when my family moved into my childhood home in West Mifflin. Our ‘plan’ was built in the 40s and 50s, a combination of flattop two bedrooms and more modern ranch homes. Plus a few Colonial and Neo-Colonial houses. Our plan was technically ‘Lebanon Manor III” but called ‘The Flattops’ by most locals.
She lived at the top of our street, I lived near the bottom. We both had one younger sibling who were two years behind us in school. Her family had an above ground pool, so did mine. Her dad worked as a driver, my dad worked in the mills. Both of our moms stayed home to raise us. We were both raised Catholic. I was in the marching band, she was a flag twirler.
Our neighborhood was shaped like a U with two entrance/exits. There was this huge eruption of kids in the year slightly ahead of our – kids born between 1967 and 1973, about 45 of us? Most were in the 1968-1969 year. So we had an entire sub-culture of children. An ecosystem of Generation X surrounded by two churches, acres of woods, and countless water hoses.
I cannot remember not knowing Amy. I was only four when I began kindergarten where we officially met. It is a little unclear if we met before 1975, but likely. I have a million memories of playing with her and other kids, all the usual childish pursuits. She taught me about horses, dogs, and kindness. I have other friends from roughly that same era, but no one with whom I’ve stayed in regular contact and felt such deep affinity.
Knowing Amy as an adult is a great privilege. She’s so bright, devoted to her kids, loving, loyal – so many qualifies we should appreciate in our adult friendships. She’s built a life she appreciates, willing to take risks but knows when to play it safe. I love that she took the civil service exam at 50 years of age. That took guts. She navigated the entire epidemic on the front line in the grocery world. She did her work, took care of her kids, and shipped supplies to friends trapped elsewhere.
Amy now works in a department of social work for a university so we have a new common tie. I love learning new things about my own profession from her perspective. Walking through life with her as my friend is joyful, familiar, and adventurous.
During a recent conversation she was commenting on her preference to be a homebody – “I filled my home with things I love. I want to spend time in home with things I love.” Cue me doing a silent fist pump as I realized we really are so alike.
All we ever wanted was to be safe and comfortable in our homes. That’s been the goal for 50 years for both of us. Safe and comfortable in our own homes. A little further apart now.
Fifty years. I’m a lucky person.
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