Too much to write

My title tells two tales. It explains why I hadn't written to my friends in so long and it explains my dilemma in writing this post. This post is one of of few posts that I'll write about visiting my best friends from college who I hadn't talked with in over five years.

They are my best friends - aside from my wife who is my very best friend. I think college friends become such good friends because you meet them under circumstances when you're on your own for the first time and you come to depend on them as you learn your way around in this strange, complex, adult world. I especially depended on my new college friends because I'd led a sheltered life in a small town. I was an only child with just a few close friends. No one in my family (including grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins) had ever been to college. Even though it scared me to death, I felt the need to strike out and face the challenge of being away from my parents. Bucknell University in Lewisburg, PA was a four hour drive away from the 400 or so people in Finleyville, PA. My friends and I helped each other along. We were all in the biology program but two of us combined that with electrical engineering. As we each got married later, we were all in each others' weddings. As the years went on, we didn't keep in contact as much as we'd have liked. So, when one friend's wife called recently, it was a pleasant surprise. He was turning 60, as I'd done earlier in the year, and she wanted to have a surprise for him. I missed the call and couldn't call back because it might ruin the surprise if my friend answered. So, I would send an email. Then I realized the problem - the same problem that had kept me from writing or calling for the previous five years and the problem I have now with this post. There was just too much to say. How could I organize it all? Each time I went to write a line, three more stories flooded into my mind. I couldn't stay organized long enough to get a coherent message written.

But then, like facing a new project at work where I didn't know quite where to begin and didn't even know what I didn't know, I had to ask myself, "What is it your are trying to do?" My goal was to answer the simple question, "Could I get to their house for the week-end?" In this case, the question may have been simple but the answer wasn't. Cindy was still going through day-long tests in Boston, I was trying to find time to visit my mother who I hadn't been able to see for over a year and my mother-in-law had collapsed and been to the hospital and was still resting at home. While I'd love to go see my friends, I wasn't sure I could commit to going. Even if I could go, I wasn't sure if my family could go with me. And, in the end, that is what I said. I just answered the question, "Did I want to go?" with a resounding Yes. But the answer to, "Could I go?" had to be left open. All I could do was to go down the list of high priority things that needed to be handled first and then say, "I'll be there if I can."

In the end, I got to see my friends but I had to go alone. It was a terrific week-end but I missed my family. While I was having a wonderful time catching up on my friends' lives, I was anxious to get home to my wife and kids (and yes, even the cats and my dog). I'll tell a few stories from my trip. There is too much to write but I've got a start. Even if I can't write it all written down, whatever I do will be better than nothing. Or putting it off again!