Sunday, November 22, 2009

Wyetta

I've been thinking so much of my dear friend, Wyetta lately. As I've mentioned before, she has been a long, long time in hospitals and nursing homes, and is now in a convalescent and rehab facility. It's a nice place. The staff seems very nice, and she has made many friends there. But of course, it isn't home. And it isn't near enough that I can visit her there often. It is near most of my doctors, so whenever I have an appointment I try to make a visit to her as well.

In recent months I haven't made many visits. We have spoken on the phone and I have written letters. Sometimes I do email her as well, but she has a problem with the computer and has not been able to email me except on rare occasions. I miss her so much. And yesterday I received a very brief email from her, telling me that she misses me.

We met in 1978, when we worked together in a part time job. I had just moved to New Jersey from New York. Wyetta was the first real friend I made here, and has become the friend dearest to me. We share so much. It breaks my heart not to be able to see her more often. This is how she looked back in those days. Her smile can light up any room, and it's infectious.

We shared a love for photography and of the outdoors, and we found lots of ways to combine those two interests, taking the children and exploring our world. How I miss those days. How I miss our visits, sitting at her kitchen table, looking at photos and talking. I have more in common with her than I have ever had with anyone else except my husband. I have another dear friend, Lisa, whom you know as the Villas Girl, and I love her too, but feel more as if she is "my other daughter". I value her friendship very highly and she has been my mainstay for a long time. Do not know what I would do without her. But even though Wyetta is young enough to be my daughter, she seems for some reason to be more my contemporary. I have other good friends, but the few who are still living are scattered over the country from Florida to Hawaii, and we no longer meet. So these days I feel I have only my two friends, Lisa and Wyetta, and one of them is out of reach most of the time.

It is hard to feel so helpless to reach out to my friend. Wyetta not only has been far from home for such a long time, at present she is unable to speak. She cannot call, has trouble writing, and often even trouble trying to email. It must be so frustrating for her. I am very grateful that she is at least in fairly pleasant surroundings and among good people. But I want to be there to give her a hug more often.

7 comments:

kenju said...

What a lovely face and kind countenance she has. I know she wishes you were close enough to visit, Bobbie. I have a good friend who is 15 years older than me, and we are only able to see each other once or twice a year. It is so frustrating for me, but at least she and I can write and talk on the phone. I hope you will continue to write to her, as your letters are a comfort to her.

maryt/theteach said...

I'm sorry bobbie. It's hard to have a sick friend and not be able to do anything.

Rambling Woods said...

What a lovely post...It is so hard to find a good friend and having one that you've known for years makes for the invaluable 'shared history' when they know about you. I am so sorry that she is so far away Bobbie.. Michelle

Kay said...

It really is frustrating to be away from your friends. Wyetta sounds like a beautiful, loving person and I can see why you are missing her. I'm missing all my friends in Illinois, too. It's hard to be away.

Sylvia K said...

What a lovely face and beautiful smile! I can understand why you miss her and know that it is hard for both of you not to be able to see each other and communicate more! As kenju wrote, I'm sure your letters are a comfort to her. I hold good thoughts for both of you.

Take care, Bobbie!

Sylvia

Pagan Sphinx said...

I've read your thoughts about Wyetta in the past. I'm sure she is thinking of you too.

Mountain Photog said...

What a sad situation, for your friend and for you. I hope she can recover sufficiently at some point to return home and get back in close contact with those who care about her. It must be difficult, to say the least, to almost completely lose touch with your past like that. . .