"I learned that a friend may be waiting behind a
stranger's face." Maya Angelou
When we were kids, making friends was easy.
You sit next to someone in school, end up on the same Little League team, or
ride the same bus and before long you are spending every Saturday together.
Then adulthood happens.
We get busy, we become careful or we
convince ourselves that everyone already has enough friends, but they do not.
This morning's chalkboard got me thinking
about all the chapters of my life and all the people who wandered into them.
I started as a Chicago kid. Those
neighborhood kids toughened me up. We settled arguments in alleys, on the gridiron and at the park. We learned that life was not always fair, and
neither were the games. Looking back, they were preparing me for the world long
before I realized it.
Then my mom moved me to
Indianapolis. Suddenly I was the kid with the funny accent. They laughed at my
Chicagonese while I slowly picked up their Hoosier twang. Before long, the
strangers became teammates, classmates, and lifelong friends. Funny how that
works.
The Oak Park years were
different. Those were the years of young adulthood. We played softball all
summer and drank Old Style afterward. We stood up in each other's weddings. We
celebrated babies being born. We watched our parents grow older. Now we are all
looking over the horizon, wondering how retirement arrived so quickly. Just yesterday we had to sneak into Fio's or Time Out Lounge
Then came my years west
of Mannheim Road.
Those friends watched my
family grow and they watched it fall apart. They were there for birthday parties,
backyard cookouts, and Saint Cletus football. I found out who my friends were
when life quit following the script.
Then came Riverside and the Divorced Dad District.
I arrived carrying more baggage than
furniture. Somehow another group of strangers welcomed me into their lives. Invited
me to their pool party, the block party and their dad band jams. They didn't
know they were helping rebuild someone. They just invited me in. They became
neighbors, walking partners, cigar friends and people I now can't imagine not
knowing.
Along the way there were colleagues who started as voices across a trading floor or acronyms on a trading jacket. Some of those people became dear friends.
There
was a rugby club out in Lemont that taught me far more than how to play a game.
They taught me to sweep the sheds, to do the small jobs without being asked,
and that every person has value regardless of where they come from or what path
brought them there. Rugby has a way of stripping away titles, giving you a role and leaving only
character.
When I look back at sixty years, I realize my life hasn't just been
measured by birthdays or addresses. It's been measured by my friendships in….
Chicago, Indianapolis, Oak Park, West of Mannheim and Riverside.
Every stop left me with friends I still carry and friends who still carry me. Every one of them was
once a stranger. Maya Angelou was right; a friend really may be waiting behind
a stranger's face.
It is the last day of July. Labor Day is
only thirty-eight days away and summer is beginning its slow turn toward
autumn.
Go head into this weekend
with a little gusto. Leave room for a little astonishment. Keep an umbrella
nearby and do not be afraid to introduce yourself.
You never know who might become part of
your next chapter.
