An old friend is scheduled to arrive for a lengthy visit this weekend. I can hardly wait.
How do I adequately describe our relationship? We’ve been close for a long time, and have shared some truly great experiences. Some of my most vivid memories occurred when they were visiting, whether it was just the two of us, or if others were involved as well. That inclusiveness is just one of many assets this particular good pal brings to the table. I honestly can’t recall even one occasion when we were the only ones who mattered. Every recollection I have of our time together involves sharing our genuine enjoyment with others.
Having this friend around is, at least for me, a real game changer. I feel reborn each year when they reliably stop by, always at around this time. Both my attitude and demeanor change for the better upon their arrival.
Ours is an enduring relationship, one chock full of contradictions. In some ways it’s utterly predictable. For example, I know this visit is going to be an extended one; it’s been that way for as long as I can remember. My friend is a creature of habit, arriving every year at around this time, albeit with precious little fanfare. But however busy I may be, the welcome reappearance at my door of this old chum is reason enough for me to drop everything, since I know from experience they’ll be staying for a while.
My grandfather had a saying about company that overstayed their welcome. “Some guests are like fish,” he’d remark, before adding, “because after three days they start to stink.” I think Grandpa might have thought differently if he knew this particular visitor, though. In fact, given my friend’s age, it wouldn’t surprise me if he and my long-departed granddad crossed paths at some point in the distant past.
Despite its length, our longstanding relationship isn’t perfect. My friend can be temperamental; we’ll experience both hot and cold days, and while the vast majority of the time we’ll spend together will likely be pleasant, there’ll be some discomfort during their visit as well. My friend’s seemingly random mood swings can make entire days dark, and on those occasions there’s no escaping their ire.
But here’s the thing about mercurial types like this particular companion: while they can occasionally flood those around them with their wrath, their assets are so enjoyable that they make their imperfections seem almost trivial by comparison. When my friend has one of their many sunny days, everyone has a sunny day.
One more quirk about this guest: every year, right about the time we’ve gotten used to one another and every day is totally comfortable, they’ll up and leave, disappearing without giving any more warning than they’d provided prior to their arrival three months earlier. But as disappointing as that always is, I take solace from knowing for certain this mysterious transient will return again in just nine short months.
The special relationship between me and this unique acquaintance has endured despite the cold, dreary days we inevitably encounter at the start of their visit, not to mention occasions when the heat and humidity rise, both literally and figuratively, during the latter part of their stay.
My grandfather’s quip about the unpleasant odor of visitors who overstay their welcome is undoubtedly true of some guests. But I’ll always welcome the friend that arrives every year at this time, even knowing they’ll quietly depart around June 21st, and that I’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Sorry Grandpa, but in my mind Spring will never stink.
Andy Young
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