My Florida barber always says, “Good to see ya!” each time I get my hair cut. My reply is always the same, “It’s good to be seen.”
I
played in a golf tournament last weekend and rekindled friendships with a couple dozen men and women. One man, Dan, said, “It’s good to see ya.” I came back with “It’s good to be seen.” and we shook hands. When our hands touched our eyes met. Our words, the touch, and our watering eyes told us we both knew we were missing Ruth in that moment. I added, “That’s the key isn’t it. Being seen.” He agreed. We reminisced a bit, exchanged a couple of stories from the winter, and then parted ways.
The thing about having friends, really good friends, is no matter how long it is between visits, you celebrate being together again. There are no balloons, fireworks or celebratory singing. You’re just happy to see each other. The reunions are kind of like birthdays. If you keep having them, you know you’re still around. That’s a good thing.
I know a man whose favorite reply to a greeting is, “Well, I got up on the right side of the grass this morning.” He thinks he’s funny. I don’t. In fact, that’s what he said when he greeted me after Ruth’s death.
Don’t get me wrong. I use humor to get through tough interactions all the time. The thing is I’m aware of my audience. I try to be diplomatic. I’ve got this little check list I go through just before I launch my words. Since Ruth’s passing, I can’t think of anything about death that’s funny.
As the summer progresses, I’ll encounter numerous Michigan friends and maybe make some new ones. I’ll enjoy that. I’ll rekindle relationships and look forward to seeing most people again. If you’re wondering if you’re a part of the “most people”, you may not be. Good friends know where they stand. Those who are unsure of themselves talk about the grass.