Everything Has Its Time
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
What I want to know is: if everything has its time, when does the time come for best friends to share each other's company??
Valerie just got back from Bermuda last night. We have seen very little of each other over the past couple months, and almost not at all for a month. (Except on Sunday mornings, which don't count as friendship time since, of course, she is working!) We were going to have lunch today. I was so looking forward to seeing her, and hearing about her trip. Ok, looking forward is a bit of an understatement...my (overly)enthusiastic inner child took over my keyboard and sent her an email this morning that began like this:
Good morning, dearest Valerie!! So glad you're finally home from Bermuda!! I missed you, can't wait to see you!! Is it lunchtime??! Are you here yet???!?!?!?
Not long afterward, my phone rings. I saw that it was Valerie and knew before answering that she was calling to cancel our date. I was not wrong...another death and she had to go be with the family and deal with funeral arrangements. It's hugely selfish of me to complain, I know. In light of what these grieving families are going through, and that Valerie has to deal with all this death, my problem of having playdates cancelled all the time is pretty damn lightweight.
But it still sucks.
I am frustrated and cranky.