She had, for some years, been actively taking responsibility for herself – meeting her own needs both financially and emotionally – attending to selfcare when necessary now that she had reconciled herself to the notion that one can’t be successful just sitting around waiting for someone else to notice need and fill the void. In other words, if her soul needed a hot meal; she cooked one. If she felt like dancing; she took herself dancing. If she needed a break or a vacation; she provided for herself.

So, as I was saying, she had, for some years been actively taking responsibility for herself financially and emotionally, when a book fell into her hands.  And I hasten to assure you that “fell into her hands,” is proper grammar and tense – whether you find it active or passive – because all she did was open the little glass door on the neighborhood sharing library – a little ADU house that shelters up to 20 books at a time – and take out a yellowed previous best seller (1999) titled, How to Get What You Want and Want What You Have. Rather long for a title, given the spine of a paperback doesn’t offer a quantity of space. She was pretty much done with self-help books. Also, she was – as Jane Austen might put it – vastly content – in her activities and semi-retirement. But still, she did want something more.  Further, the book was written by the author of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. Knowing that to be true, and also having a certain amount of respect for a writer who could reference outer space and Greek myth in a literary sounding sentence, she shlepped the book home and began to read.

Let me be clear, she loved the semi-hermit life she now lived, but there was a bit of lack. She wanted more and she wanted to go about obtaining it with the best method.

In this book, the writer spoke of love tanks that need to be filled throughout the stages of a person’s life in order for one to be properly soul-nourished and to grow and thrive in health.

There were parent tanks and friendship tanks and higher-power tanks and even eros tanks. She was fairly familiar with the concept. It all made sense. But how does one go back and fill a deficient tank, a neglect that happened in high school or grade school or even in the womb? How does one cease blaming and actively take responsibility for becoming whole?

She found, for instance, that choosing a good counselor, taking a college course, or even reading a good book can fortify deficiencies in the parent love tank. A faith love tank is an ongoing journey. Some of the love tanks work like backup storage and spill over into others. And sometimes, sometimes one can go back and actually rebuild bridges to friendships in the past and reap the benefits of friendship in the present.

So it happened that in 2020 and 2021, in the midst of a pandemic and social isolation, in spending a minimal amount of time on social media, she was able to reconnect with old high school acquaintances. Hear me now, they had never been “close” or “besties” back in their school days – but there had been many, many hours and years spent in shared classes and activities in the years from 1960 to 1972. Twelve years of shared era and memories; a shared past.  They reached out to her. She responded. Good women, all of them. Persons who from age 10 to 18 did not reject her. In fact, always she would have found a place of welcome at their lunch table – had she not been so concerned with the popular kids and the ones who did reject her – or worse – did not know she existed at all.

As the dust cleared from the first round of the pandemic and social distancing, she made her way back to the old hometown and reconnected with a few of the young women – now grown old – precisely as old as she. In addition, she journeyed over the mountains to reunite for a few hours with old colleagues – folks with whom she shared many fond educational memories. Then, she loaded her kayak and went paddling and hiking in a pristine mountain town with a newer friend, someone known to her for merely a decade. She got those friendship tanks full and in that newfound energy of friendship, she began to reach out confidently and intentionally to form new friends in her new community.

Thus, when someone asked her frankly about the pandemic years (2020 and 2021), she confessed those years had not been so bad after all. There was much to say in their favor.

“Roses,” she said “always have thorns.”