“For the Keys to a New Life,” writes my dear friend on the the back of the packing envelope. She has sent me a beautiful key ring and with it, some energy of encouragement for transitions. It is soft and padded like a pillow with gorgeous red and orange glass beads, and a tassel — more befitting a Moroccan ornament than a key chain. But it is so lovely to touch, so unexpected to reach into my pocket and find something soft that declares all doors will open for me.

She is a friend I text almost daily, or send emoji’s or a funny cartoon. The one who cleans out her closets and sends me things I would not buy for myself, and suddenly I am wearing them, loving them. The kind of friend that seems so old school now — there are postcards from her trips, cards for every occasion, and every non-occasion, simply because she is thinking of me. Often reminding me we are “Old Broads”, “Badasses”, and that “Well-Behaved Women Never Made History”. And the hand written thank you notes, that took time and care, not simply because the card is funny/interesting/genius/sarcastic/ and a piece of art, but because she picked it for me and then spent the full inside of the card handwriting about how much she loved the gift I sent, or the thoughts of support and my checking in; how meaningful our friendship is.

She is my organized and thoughtful friend, who thinks of me and others, and acts to let us know. Yesterday, I hadn’t heard from her, and instead got a text from her daughter detailing that she had had a “bad” stroke in the middle of the night, which parts of the brain had severe damage, and next possible steps.

My friend is a Maypole, around which so many lives revolve and rely, perhaps unknowingly, but so intertwined. She keeps a busy schedule, and the trains running on time. I am just one of the many satellites of her love and care, an orbit which includes her extended family, her friends, and also her favorite baristas and the staff at offices she frequents and remembers at Christmas.

And now here we are in a new kind of space, of unknown configuration. And all I can do is celebrate my wonderful friend of over 30 years, who I met because we sat next to each other at a Starbuck’s in West Hollywood, and she read the paper, and I prepared for class, and we laughed with the same group of strangers every single morning for years. And it is these kinds of unheroic moments that change lives; yet, it is the ongoing ones that build friendships — the love of coffee, and the everyday kindnesses and generosities.

This is what Remains, under all conditions.

Today, may we remember our good friends — our webs of support — how we found each other, what they bring to our lives, what we share. And may we be good friends, practicing the Art of Thoughtfulness — like my friend, who makes thinking of others, considering others, part of her self-care routine. May we send a card that says “Thank You, I Love You.” Or maybe we will send a beautiful gift of encouragement, a holder for the keys to a new life.

I love you, Friend. Thinking of you. xo

If you’d like to hear me read, “Strokes of Friendship” (with a lovely small plane in the background), listen below:

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