By Valerie J. Frost
When they go fishing, it is not really fish they are after. It is a philosophic meditation.
~E.T. Brown
The soothing cadence of the train created the perfect ambiance to allow me to drift into my own world of excitement and anticipation. Despite the warnings about meeting people on the Internet, I was on a two-hour train ride to meet someone with whom I had shared my thoughts, life and friendship through e-mail. It was a short ride from San Diego to Fullerton, but it provided ample time to reflect on the possibilities of this adventure.
Two years earlier, I had written an online article outlining the challenges of our youth today, and some insight into why I believe they are heading down the wrong path. In response, I received an e-mail from a woman in Oregon named JoAnne.
"I enjoyed your article, 'Ask Me Why.' I am working on a book proposal for a major publishing house. I would like permission to include your story in a chapter of the book. Your article fits perfectly with the theme of this project. It would be a welcome addition."
Over the next year, we had a few brief contacts sharing what was going on with her book proposal and our writing in general. A few months later, I received a message regarding a change of plans for her project.
"I received a letter from the publisher stating they are not interested in my book at this time. I have considered resubmitting to another publisher, but I think I'll just put it on the shelf for a while."
The project was on hold, but not our friendship. We began to write more often about our daily lives, our work, and our families. We discussed our most recent writing projects, the successes and the disappointments. It became increasingly more comfortable to share the desires of our hearts, our hopes for the future, as well as a few ghosts from the past. As this friendship developed, it amazed me how much we had in common.
When I was ten years old, my biological father left. After forty years, I still wondered what happened to him. My writing buddy, JoAnne, is adopted and has spent many hours gathering information on her birth parents and siblings. We were both dealing with loss and rejection in our early years, and an honest assessment of our lives revealed that issues can follow us into our adult relationships.
It intrigues me that with our history, we both chose to pursue writing. There is probably nothing more discouraging than form letters rejecting your manuscripts. Despite the writers' workshops you attend or books and magazines you read telling you to expect a multitude of rejection letters, each one still hurts. It's comforting to have someone who knows how you feel and can share your disappointments and your successes.
When her daughter graduated from a college about two hours from my house, JoAnne traveled to California with her husband and her younger children to attend the graduation. One afternoon, I received an e-mail message.
"Hi, Val. I'm not sure if it would be possible, but I would love to see you while I am in California if there is some way we can get together. It would be great if we could meet for lunch."
 |  |
The train ride passed quickly, and before I knew it, I was exiting toward the waiting area. I descended the stairs and scanned the crowd, where I saw a woman with brown curly hair and a medium build, wearing a soft summer dress and the kindest smile I'd ever seen. Yep, that's her, I thought smugly. I'd know her anywhere. She looks just like I thought she would. She was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and as soon as we walked up to each other, I knew we would be friends for life.
We sat in a quiet corner at lunch, and the more we talked, the more obvious it became how much we had in common. JoAnne lives in Oregon, the last known residence of my father. I love fishing, and so does she. And we have both written stories about our childhood fishing memories.
"You need to come to Oregon so we can go fishing. Just remember, I don't do worms!" she said. I'm okay with worms, so we make a good team.
I have a hard time expressing my feelings, but I love to listen to JoAnne talk about her experiences. She is blessed with an open heart, the willingness to sacrifice for those she loves, and the ability to share her life with others not only through her writing, but by the way she lives each day. We even discovered our birthdays are just one day apart.
The time passed so quickly that we were shocked when I looked at my watch to find my return train would leave in twenty minutes. During those few hours, we watered the seeds of friendship that were planted months earlier by what some people might call a "chance" meeting. Our adventure has taught me that there are times when it's necessary to take a risk and step out in faith to write that story, or to find an unexpected treasure in a new friend.
I'll never again think of my childhood, see a train or hear a fish story without thinking of my writing friend. I'm a little sad that we can't spend much time together, but that's okay, because we have a plan. We have e-mail, and we have telephones — and we have decided that we're going fishing! I can see it now, a cool flowing stream with green grass on the banks and two comfy chairs sitting next to a stringer full of fish. I'll be there baiting the hooks. JoAnne will be the one with the kind smile and the tender heart, and most likely the biggest fish! It's the perfect picture — a container of worms, two fishing poles, two cups of tea, and, of course... my fishing buddy and me.
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий