Travel & Lifestyle Freelance Writer | Market Research Consultant
Just had one of those horribly awkward encounters where someone comes up to you and starts chatting like she’s one of your oldest friends, but you (or, in this case, I) have no idea who the heck it is.
I scraped by with a few nods and smiles and then managed to get away with both of our senses of dignity intact.
You’ve likely discovered the greatness of Pandora. Your favorite music anytime. It’s amazing.
Mumford & Sons just came on my station, “The Cave.” I love it. The song, the band really, makes me remember a close friend whose passion for music, and especially for Mumford, has had a great impact on my life. Despite her young age–only 25–she’s lived in the Faroe Islands, in the Phillipines and in Washington D.C. She and her husband just got back from a month in Afghanistan where she petted yaks and trekked along the Hindu Kush. I’ve only known her a year, but she’s taught me so much. Abby is now moving on to Wyoming and then to Denver.
Another close friend has a wonderful husband who just graduated from business school. His start-up business is taking off so they’ll be moving back to California within the next few days. She has made me great salads, made me laugh and made Boulder feel like home. I’ve promised to visit and certainly plan to do so, but it won’t be same as biking over to her house for pizza and deep discussion.
And then there’s Rachel, my best friend in the whole world. We spent five months together while studying abroad in Nantes, France, but since then, the longest continued period I’ve spent with her was the week when she visited me in the Tetons. A lot happened: we shared lunch with a bear, ate buffalo burgers and woke up to ants in the dorm bathroom. I got to stand next to her recently while she wore white and said “yes,” but we haven’t had that constant contact so precious to close friendships.
I’ve been blessed to have had a chance to travel, to live in beautiful places and meet incredible people. Yet, it’s tough when they or I move on. We all know the silver lining is the memory, the music, and–I suppose in my case–Mumford.