Posts Tagged ‘friendship’

Lyn Riddle

On friendships to fill a life

by Lyn Riddle

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Jul
22

Monty Long celebrated her 60th birthday by jumping out of an airplane.

With a parachute, of course, and a skydiving instructor.

She’s also rediscovered skiing, and tore her ACL in the process. But that didn’t hold her back as evidenced by a recent ski trip to Canada.

She’s hopped on the back of a motorcycle with one son, hunted deer with another.

It’s all part of her desire to live life to the fullest – to create a bucket list of sorts. The things left to do.

She said last year’s skydiving trip with her oldest son was the most empowering thing she’s ever done. Afterwards, she told herself, “It’s time to get out of your comfort zone.”

Long and her husband Lee have been married 29 years. He owns Long Utilities, a subdivision builder, and for the most part she stayed home and raised their three boys.

Her world revolved around football and all the other trappings of child life. The people she associated with were largely the mothers of her son’s friends.

“I didn’t make the time for friends, she said.

Then one by one, the boys grew to that independent stage where even though they live with you, they don’t really.

So she got to know her neighbors in Bruce Farm. And that was step one of the active life she lives now.

Sixty percent of the women in the subdivision get together once a month for lunch. Eight get together for weekly dinner. Some travel together – like the ACL-tearing trip. They play bridge. They stay at each other’s beach or mountain houses.

“How can you have so many people you’re so crazy about?” Long wonders sometimes. There are so many activities the husbands sometimes feel abandoned.

They’ve been to New York City, on a cruise to the Caribbean.

“We’re absolutely insane,” she said.

Long is a fervent traveler, taking each of her sons to Europe and going twice with the whole family to Alaska, once to Hawaii. New Orleans, Las Vegas, a helicopter trip to the Grand Canyon.

A girlfriend of a son called at 10 p.m. one night and said she was trolling around Travelocity and found a great deal to Cancun. The plane left at 9 a.m. the next morning. From Charlotte. Long was on the plane after spending much of the night digging out summer clothes.

“I don’t care where or what accommodations,” she said. “There’s nothing I don’t want to see.”

So now that’s she’s got this empowerment going, she’s decided to get more for her 61st birthday in October. Another jump.

She also wants to slide down a zip line – she hears Costa Rica is best for that. A balloon ride would be nice. Also some hiking on the Appalachian Trail. She got that idea from a picture she found of herself recently at two years old, standing in front of an AT trail marker.

Ireland. Martha’s Vineyard.

“I could call somebody and within a week we’d be off somewhere,” she said.

Her life, she said, for a long time was filled with maleness thanks to the men she loves. Even her two springer spaniels and her cat are male.

“Nobody sees eye to eye with girl things,” she said.

With her friends, she has added an outlet for living – and for developing bucket lists.

“I never realized how important friendships are,” she said.

Lyn Riddle

On connections to last a lifetime

by Lyn Riddle

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Apr
30

Six childhood friends.

Those who went to college chose different schools.

One married soon after graduation.

Two got jobs.

All but one left their hometown of Martin, Tenn., after graduation in 1971. They ended up in Greenville, St. Petersburg, Fla., Knoxville, Memphis.

Yet, at least once every year – sometimes more often than that – they spend several days together relishing each other’s company.

These women in their mid-50s are touchstones for one another. Despite the differences in the lives they have led, the men they married (and, for some, divorced), the children they bore or not, the money they earned, they have stayed together just like the characters in Cassandra King’s novel “Same Sweet Girls.”

Greenville optometrist Brenda McGregor – her friends call her Pug – is one of the women.

She is back from the annual trip – this year they went to Treasure Island, near St. Petersburg.

“One girl picks a date and we go,” McGregor said. “This year she surprised us with this beautiful waterfront home owned by a doctor. We felt like we were in Architectural Digest.”

McGregor talks about the women with such joy and intimacy it’s easy to feel you know them, too.

Janet: who arranged for the house, divides her time between St. Pete and Franklin, N.C., married her high school sweetheart, divorced, remarried and is now retired from the insurance business. Her father picked the girls up in a Silver Cloud Rolls.

Louisa: also lives in St. Pete, is a widow with deep spirituality, the exotic one who does yoga and has a gift for seeing meaning in things others overlook.

Bonita: worked three jobs to raise her children during a difficult marriage, is remarried and lives in Knoxville.

Carol: sold a hotel renovation business two years ago, the most creative of the bunch who can wrap a present so beautifully you don’t want to unwrap it – “Our Martha Stewart.”

Donna: lives in Martin and is a funeral director with grandchildren she adores.

Pug: got her name because her brother upon her birth said “Uncle Joe’s pug is cuter than that baby” and describes herself as the “boring one,” married 30 years to an engineer, retired two years ago from her practice.

There is a litany of information about the value of long-term friendships. Journalist Jeffrey Zaslow wrote a book about 10 women from Ames, Iowa, who have virtually the same experience. No distance or passage of time diminishes the bond.

It might be seen as an oddity in these times as people move all over the country chasing dreams and jobs. The false ties of texting and e-mail and most assuredly Facebook are not stand-ins and, in fact, probably keep folks from forging true bonds.

It’s not that the women of Martin, Tenn., did not change. It’s that they changed in ways that were expected and they have a rich history to hold onto. No need for explanation. Comfort. Fun. Sometimes pain. Always a profound connection.

This year the Martin girls played board games and prepared exquisite dinners. They walked the beach every morning. And of course had their time together where they tell each other what has happened in the months since they last met. Nothing is held back. This year offered two major surprises, but they’re not for public consumption.

It was a year to rejoice because Bonita marked the important fifth year as a cancer survivor. They gave her a pink necklace and bracelet designed by Emily Ray, whose mother died of breast cancer and who donates $5 of every sale to the National Breast Cancer Foundation.

Each year someone is honored for something special that’s happened, a shower for a grandma to be, a retirement, a marriage. The rites of passage through life shared with someone you’ve known almost as long as you’ve been lived.

And there’s an added benefit.

“We’re all a hoot,” McGregor said.

Melissa Blanton

The wonders of peanut butter

by Melissa Blanton

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Mar
5

Sorry, no criminals today.
Actual dogs on this Dog Blog, yes. That I can do.
I have a small black dog with big brown eyes.
Her name is Sophie and she’s been with me for almost three years now.
I like to say I rescued her from the pound. But more days than not it’s she that does the rescuing. And it leads me to believe that a dog who consents to be a person’s friend gives a friendship that’s like no other.
I happened upon this fluffy pup at the Greenville Humane Society.
It was a busy Saturday in the puppy room. Kids and parents were giggling and gasping over tiny brown and white and yellow dogs.
But no one was looking at the larger black dog. The one laying quietly in her cage, perhaps wondering what others had that she didn’t.
But I saw her and lifted the latch of the steel cage door. I picked her up and she laid her little head on my shoulder and I’m almost certain she breathed a sigh of relief.
She does all the usual things that dogs are said to do.
Waits at the window for me. (I think all day she must lie there.)
Sits with me on the couch.
Watches whatever I want to watch on TV.
Appreciates a dollop of peanut butter any time of day.
Thumps her tail when we have our conversations. And we do have them.
Like the time we tried to solve the “who is letting their dog mess in our yard” question. Nothing came of it. Just Sophie’s brown eyes, filled to the top of her brown iris’ with as much confusion as I ever could muster.
For my birthday this year I decided Sophie might like a little brother or sister. Someone small and sweet and well, did I say small?
I know someone who has a miniature pinscher and so I decided upon one.
A Google search led me to the Internet Miniature Pinscher Service (IMPS.)
Luck led me to Dickens.
She had been put in a box and left at a humane society in another part of the state.
She was shy at first. Her chubby and shiny and black body would shake and she usually retreated beneath a blanket or under a bed. (A shyness Sophie simply did not understand. This Sophie who would make friends with a porcupine if nature would allow.)
But it’s been about two months now. She is spending less time under the bed and more time on my lap.
She’s warming up to Sophie. Sophie is learning to wait. And we’re all learning that a little time, a little extra love and a dollop of peanut butter do wonders for all of us.