It's a small, small, small, small world.

Recovering a bit these last few days from a broken heart, and trying to be the best support to my husband who lost his brother, a great friend, our neighbor…So many memories with this guy and a great sense of loss, as I touched on last week.  I will forever have etched in my memory the silhouette of these two, down by the fire, sitting on a bench exchanging solutions for the day’s problems or celebrating the day’s events.

So the blog world has become a repository, of sorts, for those feelings of loss, the expression of sorrow and I thank you for allowing me to go there with you for a while.

The funeral of my brother-in-law brought some old friends to town…my husband’s best friends from his childhood.  We are in a small town, relatively speaking, so it is no surprise that my brother-in-law’s wife had a younger brother, too ~ one who became my husband’s best friend while growing up.  Many people are interwoven in our town, with family becoming best friend, or the best friend of a family member becoming like your own.  We are simple, and complex.

 

Those who attended my Sunday School class or the youth group I helped lead may remember that I love stories of people woven together through a common thread, or their common experience, relationship or history.  I love when I meet someone and they say “Hey, wait a second…” or one my children tell me they “met someone who…” It makes me feel so connected, and warm.

Like recently we and discovered our friendly electrician’s wife works at the dentist office my husband visits. During an appointment she shared vacation plans as they had just returned from a visit to Seattle, where our son lives.  She said they stopped in to visit the son of their friend, who is in a band with her husband (because what middle aged electrician doesn’t play in a cover band?)  Now, my son and his wife love to share their home, live almost communally.  So, yes, they stopped in to visit my son’s roommate.  There is absolutely no reason these people should be in my son’s home…other than through the relationship, and while my town is small, it’s not THAT small.  However, I am reminded everyday that our world is small and I love those small world stories.

Of course, it’s even more special when it reaches across many miles, many generations.  Because I did move around so much as a kid I didn’t get the opportunity to learn much about my neighbors and playmates, so few small world stories in my personal history from childhood, and may be why I like hearing them so much now.  Kids (and adults) in a small town, where they are related to almost everyone, or have known their classmates since kindergarten, don’t fully appreciate, perhaps, how small the world is, how closely we are woven together;  that you must talk with someone, open up a bit about yourself and your history, to really experience how small the world can be, not online, not through Facebook, not in passing, but really interact.  Learn about your neighbor, help your neighbor…love your neighbor.