Today I had an unplanned visit from a dear friend, who bounced into my kitchen with her usual enthusiasm for life.  This is a person who has always followed her own road, who is compassionate and intelligent and huge fun to be around. Sitting in the sunshine with a cup of tea we chatted and caught up on several months of news and views, and I was reminded how lucky I am with the friends I have.

Everyone I know in my home town I didn’t know less than twenty years ago.  It was then we made the decision to uproot the children and start a new life in a different county, a new town and a new way of life. I arrived in my new home, alone, with four children and that first morning I awoke to the thought that beyond the front door I knew nobody.  This seems incredible now.

I have great people in my life.  I have people who have challenged me, who have cared for me and with whom I have laughed and cried in equal measure.  I cannot imagine not knowing them and having them in my life,

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had chosen a different town to make our home. All the people I love and consider friends, would not be in my life.  I then start to wonder if there is a parallel world, in which all my potential new friends are living and loving, in a town we didn’t move too, and not knowing me or me knowing them.  Thoughts like this often make my head hurt.

So, did I just get lucky?  Did I chose the place where I would find my friends, or would I have had similar relationships with other people, in a different town?  I have no idea, but lucky I am.