It all happened rather innocently. For years on my way to the job site, I’d stumble into Starbucks early in the morning for my “cup of Joe.” When you’re in the same place, at the same time every day, the scenery becomes familiar. So, to be pleasant, every morning I’d say, “Good morning ladies.” Thus started the dialog and teasing. My greeting started everything.
Lesli, Holly, and MaryAnn – plus an assortment of their other non-regular friends all fresh from having dropped their kids off at private school, would ask about my day, the jobs, my clients (I was always hired to be discreet, so they never got much), and my family. We got to be friends. Pretty soon I knew as much about them as they knew about me.
Time flew by, their kids grew up, and Lesli, Holly, and MaryAnn slowly were replaced by Jamey, Walter, Mike, Bob, Glenn, Craig, Chic, and eventually Jim. All from different walks of life, each with their own stories, and every one with the same political and spiritual beliefs as the others. None of this was planned, it just sorta happened over time. Around my house, they affectionately became known as “The Boys.”
Every morning, the luscious, irresistible smell of ground-roasted coffee beans teased Dexter as he walked downstairs to The Big Drip. Thankfully, the fully remodeled old hardware store was still pervious enough to let the delectable aromas pervade his loft. He looked forward to his daily trip through the coffee klatch, filled with personalities he’d long ago deemed “The Boys.”
But this was no place for thin skin. Most mornings, eight to ten of “the old men,” as he liked to call them, gathered to tease, laugh, and goad one another with the news of the day. Because Dexter was their junior by twenty years or so, he was often the brunt of their lighthearted punishment. Mutual respect, however, regularly tempered their ribbing. Over the years, he’d come to realize each man had once been the captain of their own industry. Retired now, each man’s faith ran as deep as their love for him and one another.
-Excerpts taken from Some Other Time, Chapter 9
Back to Webster’s for their definition of camaraderie. They say “a spirit of friendly good-fellowship.” Dexter didn’t really have many friends; he worked all the time. But he had a lot of acquaintances – business acquaintances. There’s a HUGE difference.
Casual acquaintances often become friends. And friends sensing fellowship voids and acceptance in their lives, often become good friends. Knowing a safe and spiritual place when he saw one, Dexter knew just where to go when he had life’s questions:
Not wanting to betray a confidence, Dexter carefully picked his way through the illustration. “When we saw each other about three years ago, my friend laid out her faith in very simple terms—too simple, in fact. I told her that becoming a Christian couldn’t be that easy.”
Saturday, two days after witnessing Wendy’s latest calm in the midst of her impending storm, Dexter was back home trying to understand how she could always be so serene. Beau was making the rounds at The Big Drip while he cloistered at the far end of the table with Bob and Jamey, two wise old men who’d be able to help him sort out all the spiritual mumbo jumbo rolling around in his head.
-Excerpts from Some Other Time, Chapter 11
“The Boys” were a safe haven, caring, experienced, and like-minded – an oasis of friendship, support, knowledge, and love. A place where Dexter could be himself with men he trusted to have his best interests at heart.
Camaraderie in Action
February was a miserable month weatherwise for Dallas. True to form we got a hard freeze which is never good news for a guy in a wheelchair whose wife was at market out of town. At 5 a.m. the unmistakable gasps of a dying pool pump begging for enough water to make it work caused me to sit straight up in bed. Now what? The outside faucets were frozen, the pool deck slick with ice, and the ONLY source to fill the pool water and save the pump was to run a hose through the house, out the window and into the pool – an impossible, insurmountable problem when your wife’s not home.
But “The Boys” – “My Boys,” have always encouraged me to call if they can EVER help. At 5:30 a.m. I reluctantly sent out a group text, an SOS to let them know I was in trouble. Fifteen minutes later three of The Boys, all from different parts of town showed up. An hour and a half later the number grew to six – all guys who loved me enough to be willing to do anything to help me out. Thanks to them, we saved the pump.
I’ll never be able to repay them for their efforts. They tell me they don’t want money, they just want me. So, most mornings I wheel into Starbucks to yuck it up with the boys. If I can’t be much else to these guys, I can always be their form of entertainment! I’m blessed beyond belief!
Who has been your tried and true friend? Share this post with them to thank them for standing by you!