My Address Book

My address book is one given to me so many years ago that it is held together by packing tape, and has as many white-outs as addresses. My daughter was young enough when I received it to think that copying the addresses from the old book to the new was fun – so I treasure it for the vestiges of her handwriting.  Even the lines that have been written over remind me of significant changes in the lives of those I love. As someone once observed, “It takes a long time to grow an old friend.” 

When I misplace it – I go into a dither: it’s the only “list” of friends I have – and it is a reminder of Christmas cards sent – birthdays – weddings – anniversaries – divorces  and sympathy notes.

    “. . . But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
    All losses are restored and sorrows end.” ~William Shakespeare (Sonnet 30)

My address book reminds me, in ways a blackberry can’t, how fortunate I am because of so many others – and all they brought into my life.  In its own way it’s a diary, a journal of how much has changed in my life, and the people to whom God has connected me. 

    “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art . . .  It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.” (C.S. Lewis)