FRIENDSHIP

By Diane Frank

June was a pretty quiet month, if you can call the annual circus that is Pride, quiet. Last summer I was traveling, so I missed being able to serve at the booth for Chevrei Tikva, but this year I was back at my old routine. It’s an excellent way to renew old friendships and see people you haven’t seen in a year or more. Transfamily had a booth up again this year, and Jake Nash kindly invited us to leave literature there, which I did. I ran into people I know from Asians and Friends, PACT, Pilgrim UCC, the LGBT Center leadership, the theatre - actually I lose track…but it’s a nice reminder of how large one’s circle of friends can be in the extended LGBT communities.

June (and early July) was also good for shopping. Syms was going out of business in Ohio, and I picked up several nice skirts for pennies on the dollar, as well as a ginormous pink cable knit sweater that for some reason was hanging around the men’s section. Then Dillard’s outlet in Euclid Square had another extra 30% off sale, and I found a dress with sheer long sleeves that actually fits my overlong arms! I wore it to temple the other evening as I wanted to look especially nice because we were celebrating the 75th birthday and 62nd bar mitzvah anniversary of one of our members.

Another quiet event was having dinner at the house of some women friends from temple together with a commuting couple. One partner is working on the east coast, while the other is finishing her degree here. These are people I’ve known from my first visit. What was noteworthy was that there were a number of long histories of community and professional association involved in the discussions, and my friends consistently made a totally voluntary and spontaneous effort to fill me in…and, I think, include me more into those circles.

I hate to close with something sad, but I’m losing a friend right now. A woman we’ve known for years is in hospice with cancer. Z is paying a last visit to her as I write. We go back almost thirty years - two of her marriages, four children among us, performing and dancing together, surviving being run off the road by a drunk driver. And, when I came out to her four years ago, after so many years, she embraced this part of me with open arms, as did her daughters. I will miss her.