When we met it was on a professional basis. You were at the School I wanted my child to attend. You were the secretary, I was the parent. New to the area. You were friendly, approachable, but that was all.
I wanted my son to join Scouting. I asked around and was told you were the person to speak to. You helped me get my son into the local group. You were the Cub Leader.
When our son became old enough for Cubs I had already been helping with the Beavers. My decision was to stay there, while OH would volunteer with the Cubs. I cannot remember when the relationship changed to that of friends. It happened quite quickly.
Our OH’s discovered a liking for each other, a Thursday night routine became established, meeting at our house after Cubs for drinks and chat. We have been on camp together, we have been on holiday together, we have been to hell and heaven and back together over the past 15 years or so. We have looked after each others pets (including me finding a dead one and not telling you while you were in Oz) – and laughing together (eventually) about what I did when I took her to the vet (I wrapped the cat up and carried her in dead, but kept her head uncovered so she could see!!), you both moved in with us when your house sold but your new one wasn’t ready.
I understood friendship when we were last on holiday. OH and I had a row. Embarrassing enough in front of other people, let alone in front of friends. You wiped my tears, told me to go talk to my OH and then took your OH out of the way. We sorted ourselves out, and the afternoon went on as planned. You knew it was how we are. You knew that because we are friends. You knew you could give me your take on our row because we are friends. You told me I was in the wrong. I was.
That is when I understood friendship.
This post was prompted by the #post40bloggers writing prompt