I’d arrived just twenty four hours earlier to spend a few days with my mom at our family’s beach cottage. It was raining now. We’d planned to drive to a neighboring town to do errands but the steady downpour deterred us. Somehow getting in and out of the car repeatedly held little appeal for either of us. We hoped to take the dog for a walk, but the wind was blowing the rain enough so that an umbrella would be useless, and getting wet in a cold wind didn’t sound too fun. I considered a nap, but I’d slept in that morning and didn’t really need one. I picked up my knitting, only to discover that one of the needle tips had somehow broken. So much for finishing the blanket. That would have to wait until I got a new needle. My book wasn’t really holding my attention either.
And then the phone rang. It was Melanie. We’d made tentative plans to see each other while I was visiting my mom. “How about Garth and I drive your way for dinner tonight with you and your mom?”
“That could work,” I said. “Let me check with her.” (She’s 82 and she really likes Melanie, but I didn’t want to assume she would be up for a last minute dinner out.) “You call the restaurant, and I will talk to my mom.” (I suggested a place part way between our locations, so that nobody would have to drive the full hour.) If you know Melanie, you know she gets things done. And within minutes we had a plan.
There aren’t too many things I’d rather do on a Friday night than catch up with a favorite friend and her awesome husband over a delicious meal at the end of a dreary day. And that is just what we did. We laughed and shared news, and listened to my mom tell stories. The rain didn’t get in our way at all.
So what am I celebrating, besides a fun evening with someone I enjoy? I’m celebrating my writing people. Without them, I would never have met Melanie. Without them, I would not have ended my dreary day on such a high. And without my writing people, I definitely would not have written about a last minute visit with a favorite friend.