The Best Problem in the World
I have the best problem in the world. What’s good about it? I have many, many friends.
So what’s the problem? They’re scattered to the four winds.
Last week, I read an article about how difficult it is to say goodbye to friends. The article was referring to the life of an expat who was preparing for a move to a new location. The author was concerned about “losing friends” in the move.
I’ve relocated multiple times in my life, and some people have faded out of my life as a result of that, but my true friends are still my friends. I may not see them as often as I’d like, but we’re still in touch.
Here in New York, I’ve been able to hang out with my BFF and catch up with other old friends. If we’re in the same place at the same time, my friends and I make time to meet up.
Sometimes, we even go out of our way to meet up. The friend in the photo is a woman I met in Chile when we were neighbors in the same building. Last year, we caught up in the UK, where we both happened to be visiting. Last weekend, she came up from Virginia to visit with me.
During the next couple of weeks, I’ll be visiting with other friends in the area. Coffees, lunches, dinners, whatever we can squeeze in. Then, we’ll say goodbye until next time, not knowing when that will be, only that it will be. Sometime, someplace.
I was sorry to say goodbye to my friend yesterday. I commented to her that I wished my friends all lived in one place so that I could see them more frequently, but I suppose being apart from loved ones is the curse of the vagabond.
If I’d stayed put and always lived in the same place, chances are that my friends wouldn’t be dotted around the US and the globe. I’d love to be physically closer to everyone, but I wouldn’t trade my experiences nor the friendships that I have.
Even if I don’t see my friends as often as I’d like, having them is the best problem in the world.