I’ve had many friends come and go during my life. Some have stayed a long time like those who attend the reunions of my high school graduating class. A few moved away for a while, but returned to this area I’ve never left. I remember them all fondly.
As I think back, some seem to have served a specific purpose. In 1966, our family moved into the home we bought in Durand. My neighbor, Sherrill, who lived two houses down the block, became my lifeline. We each had three children who were matching ages and played together. Her husband, who worked the second shift in a Rockford factory, was gone during the late afternoons and evenings. My husband was often gone at that time, too, either working a shift with the sheriff’s police or moonlighting driving a semi.
Sherrill knocked on our front door so often that when my kids went to see who was there they got in the habit of yelling to me, “It’s just Sherrill,” and invited her in.
She and I played a lot of Scrabble or just enjoyed adult conversation. We were both interested in the community. The actions of the village government and the school board affected us directly. Our oldest children were in first grade and the others would soon follow. Sherrill and her husband moved away after their kids finished high school.
I don’t include family on my list of friends. Each one of them holds a unique place in my heart. I lived with my parents until I married at twenty-one. No one has shared as much of my life as my husband of nearly sixty-two years. I’ve added in-laws, children and grandchildren. Friends are the people I complain to when I’m upset with someone related to me.
Who makes up your friends list?