The Afternoon My Friend Really Came Through For Me

Something happened yesterday that required my immediate attention – many phone calls to different people in different departments, followed by an unavoidable trip into town.

I’d not been to my local town (or any town, for that matter), for over 13 years, by choice, and now, having been out of society for so long, I found the prospect anxiety-inducing.

My initial problem was that I have no car (or valid driving licence), so I had no means to get into town under my own steam, since I live about 12 miles outside it.

When the lady who brings my mail most days came at about 1:30 pm, I explained the situation to her, and without hesitating, she offered to come back after she’d finished work and take me into town and back so I could do what I needed to do.

I was going to ask her if she could do this some time over the next few days, to fit in with her own work and home schedule, but I never expected her to say she’d drive me there that same afternoon.

This lady is one of the daughters of my best friend, who I first met several years ago now when he used to deliver my mail every day.

For reasons I cannot recall, we became good friends, and a few years ago, he started doing some grocery shopping for my late wife and me, once a week – things that were difficult to buy online, which is how we have done most of our shopping since 2007.

He has also helped me with a few small jobs around the house since my wife died.

Well, I’ve become friends with his daughter too, and now that her father is recovering from a health-related problem, she is now doing my grocery shopping as well.

I really don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such good friends, but I am more than grateful that they are there for me, because without their kindness, I would not be able to continue living the lifestyle I have.

So, my friend came back to my house at about 3:30 pm and drove me the 12 miles into town.

The journey there, along country roads, didn’t seem any different to the last time I made that trip, and once in town, not much had changed there, as best as I could recall.

The only difference I was able to see was that a small supermarket I’d been in a couple of times had been closed down and replaced by an apartment complex.

Once we arrived at the place I needed to go, my friend waited – for just over an hour – while I went inside and conducted my business.

And that was when my next dread manifested – since this coronavirus scare began, I have never worn a mask, because I don’t leave my property or meet more than two or three people face to face.

But I knew it would be uncomfortable for me – I already have trouble breathing, having had a permanently blocked nose since 2006 (which means I have lost my sense of smell too).

As expected, there was a prominent sign as soon as I entered the building that said face coverings are required.

I reluctantly put on one – I’d bought a box full of masks ages ago, not because of the coronavirus, but because I needed one for when I was doing jobs around the house to prevent my breathing in dust and other undesirable particles.

And then, within seconds of taking a seat in the waiting area, I could feel myself overheating, struggling to breathe, and, even though I was sitting down, I felt dizzy.

When it was my turn to be served, which must have been ten minutes at most, I was more than uncomfortable, and I can only say that there is no way I could wear one of those things for hours at a time like many have had to.

The first part of my business went smoothly enough – and the guy serving me wore his cloth mask without any apparent trouble – but then I got handed over to another guy for a related piece of business, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing one, which I thought was odd.

So I asked him how come he wasn’t wearing one, and his answer was a simple, “I’ve had enough of it.”

I’m not sure whether he was talking specifically about the mask-wearing, or about the whole scare, but either way, I’m 100% with him.

Fortunately, my business was soon concluded, and as soon as I went out of their main door, I ripped it off (and took it back home with me, of course, to dispose of correctly).

My friend was waiting in her car, drove me home, and when we arrived, I was relieved to find that my three dogs were all OK, because this was the first time they’d been left alone at all, never mind for a couple of hours or so.

And this all reminded me why I don’t like going out in public these days – it’s stressful, to me, and I’m not sure how I used to cope with working in an office with several thousands other people.

I also had concerns on the way into town about whether I’d still be able to behave like a normal human being, and whether I’d remember how to interact with regular people, because, like I said, I only see a handful of people during the course of a year, and I almost never use the telephone to call people because I have never liked using one, ever.

But if there is one thing I did enjoy about my unplanned trip into the normal world, it’s this: I am incredibly fortunate to have such a good friend as this lady, who drove an additional 50 – 60 miles, after having done a day’s work, and put off whatever she had planned to do once she got home, all to help me solve a problem.

However reclusive some of us pretend we are, it seems we all need a good friend or two. I don’t think you need many – I have, since I moved to the USA in 2005, three such friends, from three generations of this same family, but that’s all I need to feel somewhat human and connected.

Back in England, there are a few people I would still call good friends too, but the longer I’ve been over here, the less contact we have, which I think is natural.

But I’m sure that if I were to return to England for some reason (not that this is in my plans), we would pick things up without missing a beat.

And finally, I’m still somewhat in shock at what this friend did for me, with no thought for herself, and as I’ve written about elsewhere, such displays of friendship and kindness are about the only things that bring a hint of a tear to my eyes these days.

So, the moral of the story, if there is one at all, is to make sure you have one or two really good friends you can count on when you’re in trouble, because if you have that, then you’re rich in a way that is more important than some people (perhaps including myself) realize.