Leaving Magical Fingerprints on Each Other's Lives

Friends leave their magical fingerprints on our lives.

I remember the day that I heard that Nancy Shuman had died.

It was a Sunday. Andy, the girls and I had spent the afternoon with my parents. My son Duncan was at home looking after our new puppy, Quinn. It was just a normal weekend day.

But when we arrived home, I knew something was wrong. Duncan’s face was creased into a dozen lines.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I’ve lost Quinn. She wanted to go outside so I opened the door for her. Then later, I went into the garden to see if she was okay.” Duncan bit his lip and then said, “She was gone.”

Our hearts sank. We’d only had our Shar-Pei / Great Dane puppy for a few weeks, but she’d already become part of our family. What if we couldn’t find her?

“Where have you searched?” I asked Duncan, and he replied, “Everywhere. Inside the house and out.”

“Well, we’ll search again.”

So we all hurried off in different directions. Thinking the dog might have found an undetected hole under our fence, I headed for the bush next to our back garden. As I bashed my way through the undergrowth, I called Quinn’s name. But there was no sign of her.

Later, we all met back at the house. Nobody had found Quinn. We imagined the worst: our puppy was gone and wasn’t coming back.

But a moment later: “I’ve found Quinn! She was asleep in my bedroom all this time!”

Of course, there was much rejoicing. We could stop imagining life without Quinn.

Once all the drama was over, I settled down with a cup of coffee to check my emails:

“Sue, I have some sad news. I don’t know if you’ve heard…”

Nancy Shuman had died.

Quinn was still in our lives. But Nancy wasn’t. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was going to miss my friend.

Even though I never met Nancy in person – she lived in America while I live here in Australia – we were still proper friends. Every day, Nancy and I would exchange a comment or an email or a message in a Facebook group. I’d write a blog post, and before very long, she would leave a comment. It didn’t matter what I wrote about, Nancy found something to say. She was that kind of person: interested in everyone. She cared. She made everyone feel special and loved.

Wow! Sue, what a great presentation! I now understand more about unschooling, and I think you are wonderful in front of a camera.

I already feel like I know your family, and now I do even more! You have such a gift of hospitality, of warmth and goodness and kindness. Your family is like a burst of sunshine. It’s a good thing all your readers don’t live in your neighborhood, or you’d have all of us on your PHYSICAL doorstep 28 hours a day!!

O Sue, these videos just keep getting better and better. My whole soul is smi i i i i lling broadly, ’cause this is so much FUN! I loved how you went so smoothly from music to “live sounds” and then back again… it felt seamless and perfect. Applause! Applause!!!!! The music matched wonderfully. And what fun to see you, too!  Now to go watch it again. You think I’m kidding? I’m not.

But it IS a spectacular post! The photos are glorious.

“I seem to have lost my ability to write,” you said. But just before that, you wrote “I can’t find the right words. The ones I keep choosing are wearing their lead shoes on the wrong feet. They keep falling flat on the ground.”

People who have lost their ability to write don’t write sentences like THOSE. So, I hate to say you’re wrong about being right about your ability to write. But you’re wrong. See, I’m right!

And for what it’s worth, I have had days – weeks – like that. When that happens, I try to go easy on myself and give myself permission to not write. Your pictures are wonderful – we’ll take ’em! Your silence is fine when you need some of that – we’ll be right here when you get back :)!!!!!

I wasn’t the only recipient of Nancy’s beautiful words. No, Nancy found the right words to encourage many, many people. All sincere and loving comments that made us feel we were capable of doing big and important things.

I like to think of Nancy’s blog comments as her magical fingerprints. Nancy hasn’t left my life completely. She’s still encouraging me to keep striving to be a good parent, blogger, writer and friend.

While I was searching for a few of Nancy’s words to share with you, I noticed a lot of comments written by other friends who used to visit my blog regularly. And I wonder: where did those friends go?

Recently, after a long quiet period, I’ve started writing regular unschooling newsletters again. I’ve noticed something interesting and a bit disconcerting. After each new edition, I lose a few subscribers. Yes, each time I look at my subscribers’ list, a few more of my newsletter friends have disappeared. Gone. Left my life. And I wonder why.

I feel sad when a friend moves out of my life. We share so much and then one day, they’re no longer there. It seems like they no longer want to know me.

A couple of years ago, on my son Thomas’ birthday, an old friend phoned as she usually does on this special day. While we were talking, I said, “When Thomas died, I thought that the people who grieved with us would be in our lives forever. All those friends who were at his funeral… most of them have drifted away. There’s hardly anyone left who still remembers Thomas. That hurts.”

My friend then shared this thought: people arrive in our lives when we need them the most. They help us through difficult times. They share our joys. They encourage and love us. They change us and our lives in some way. Then one day, some of them drift away. They make new friends. So do we.

Realistically, we can only have a certain number of close friendships at any one time. If we kept the same friends forever, they’d be no room for new ones who will bring different things into our lives. And we wouldn’t be able to give what we have to other people. None of us would be able to go where we’re needed the most.

Even when friends do move on, they leave something of themselves behind. We don’t lose them completely. They leave memories that might make us smile and feel grateful. Their words of encouragement echo in our heads. We can still feel the love we shared. They change us in some way. We wouldn’t be who we are today if we hadn’t met those people and been friends for a while.

Friends leave their magical fingerprints on our lives.

I think about the blog followers and newsletter subscribers that have moved out of my life. Why did they stop commenting? Why do they no longer want to hear from me? Did I say something wrong? Don’t they like me anymore? Or perhaps the reason has got nothing to do with me. Maybe those people moved on from unschooling. Could it be that they no longer need any unschooling encouragement and ideas? Perhaps they’ve moved onto a new stage of their lives.  I might no longer have what they need. They might be sharing what they have with other people. Yes, needs and circumstances change.

You know what? That’s quite okay.

Some people we meet become forever friends. And some touch our lives just for a time. We share and encourage and love. And then one day, it’s over.

But new people come into our lives. New friends, followers, subscribers. And that’s exciting. What stories will we create together? What will we share? How will we encourage and help each other? What memories will we make? How will we change each other’s lives?

Blog comments and emails and social media posts might seem rather ordinary. But they’re not. They’re our fingerprints on someone else’s life.

Shall we make them magical?