Friendship is important to Maria and me.

When we got married a little more than a decade ago, Maria had a few friends; I had one or two, none of them healthy.

Those friends soon vanished in the tsunami that swept over our lives – from divorce to marriage to depression and panic.

Bit by bit, I let the idea of friendships go. But Maria always hung onto it.

My therapist told me that I was changing and that most people I knew would not want to come along with me. This was true and prophetic.

Maria’s friends also melted away for different reasons, and we were living in a remote and isolated place, where there weren’t many people.

Maria threw herself into her art; I threw myself into emotional recovery and writing. It was a beautiful time; it was sometimes a lonely time.

I am older than Maria – 17 years older – which is a lot. As wonderful as our marriage is, we talk openly about the reality that hovers above it – I am likely to die well before her.

We’re not morbid about it; we acknowledge it.

It is often on my mind, less so than before, when I wasn’t sure Maria could really make it as an artist in the midst of the awful recession we were facing.

But, I know now that she can take care of herself, she’ll be all right.

Once we moved to this new farm, she picked up on the idea making new and lasting friends, and this happened in the past few years.

I’m not as good at it. I never found it easy to talk to men, and friendships between men and women are often difficult. So most of mine didn’t really work out.

The first new and close friend I’ve made is Moise, perhaps the most unlikely friend I’ve ever had. And perhaps one of the best. After that, life is full of crisis and mystery.

When the pandemic struck, we couldn’t see the friends we had, and the value of friendship was driven home to her and me.

Maria worked hard at connecting with new friends, making time for them, being open to them.

She is very social, she doesn’t love everybody, but she loves the people she loves fully and loyally.

I could see she was opening up to close friendships; we both knew she might need them someday. She cherishes and enjoys her friends.

My idea of friendship has never really crystallized after all this change.

I feel less of a need for friendships as I edge towards the end of my life. Most men can’t open up to true friendships, and I do not really need friends in my life much anymore.

I am busy, engaged, content, and fulfilled with my life. I have what I want; I have what I need for now. My love for Maria fills my heart; I’m not sure there is room for more.

I’ve never really been good at making friends, and I accept that. However, I like myself these days. After a lifetime of change, there is almost nothing I would change in my life.

Maria’s friendships are deepening and thriving, and that is a joy for me to see. One of her friends came today – she comes almost every week to have lunch with Maria here at the farm.

In the house, I can hear them laughing and talking. It’s a beautiful sound. Maria says they have wonderful talks.

Another close friend Zooms with Maria faithfully every week, when they can, they get together for walks or visits, even in rain and snow. They are close and fiercely supportive of one another.

She talks with others on the phone or dances with them.

She says the pandemic has opened her eyes to the value and need of friendship, and yes, she wants to keep connections with people her age, especially if I do pass before her.

I am glad we can talk honestly and openly about that; we are so close and easy together, it is sometimes difficult to imagine not being together.

At first, it was just the two of us, alone against the world. But, we are not alone now.

She always says she might go first and asks if I am prepared for that. No, I say, not really, but I am prepared to accept it if it happens.

Some of my friends are getting older, sicker, and are dying.

This is a chapter of life my hospice and Mansion work has prepared me for.  For me, the challenge is aging gracefully and authentically, and with thought. I’m getting close. And I have no interest in living forever or past my time.

I was happy to take this photo today; it captured the sense of intimacy, trust, and connection that Maria has with her friends. But, unfortunately, I am not invited, and I wouldn’t dream of stepping in.

Pandemics are awful things, but sadness and suffering often leave change and reflection in their wake.

We couldn’t see the friends we have for more than a year, so we know now what friendship really means.