Friendship

Theory and practice can be worlds apart. I articulate that there is: “No time like the present,” but I could be head of the Procrastinators of America if such a group exists. I have yet to determine if there is such an organization.

I’m good at identifying people I’d like to share time with but slow on carving out the time to make that happen. They say: “Life gets lost in living.” I could be the poster person for that expression.

For several years, Keith Owens, one of Craig’s Marine Corps buddies, has been reading my daily blog. He often is one of the first people to make a comment or select the “like” button. We occasionally exchange text messages with one another.

He and his family live in Maryland. They live on a farm about an hour’s drive from Washington. We have expressed an interest in meeting when I’m in D.C., but I never carve out the time.

Wednesday evening, when I realized I had Friday afternoon open, I reached out to Keith through Facebook messenger to ask if we could meet for lunch yesterday. I said that we’d need to meet at a location I could access by Metro.

Keith was far too kind to tell me they were not close to any Metro stations. Our meeting required a lot more effort on his part than mine.

Keith, and two of his children, James and Cecelia, met me for lunch at Lauriol Plaza yesterday. His older son John graduated from High School this year and was in New Mexico this week at a camp for Eagle Scouts.

There was nothing awkward about the shared time with the Owens family yesterday. It didn’t feel like meeting Keith for the first time. Facebook friends have a way of materializing as real friends. That certainly proved to be the case yesterday.

James and Cecelia didn’t seem uncomfortable having lunch with a stranger. Both are polite and personable. I suspect they are also very smart. Both identify math as their favorite subject in school.

Cecelia volunteered that she invests a lot of time reading because she finishes her classroom assignments in a fraction of the time it takes for the rest of her class. Rather than waste time, she prefers to read.

Keith and my son, Craig, met at the Marine Corps base in Quantico, Virginia. They were there for Amphibious Warfare Training and became instant friends.

Keith was a single officer when they first met, and he chose to spend a lot of time at Craig and Becky’s home. Hunting and NASCAR were two activities both Craig and Keith enjoy. That also put them on a level playing field for friendship.

Keith told me yesterday that he met his wife on a “blind date” for the Marine Corps Ball while he was in Quantico. After Craig and Becky met Karen, Craig perceptively predicted that he would choose her to marry. Keith said they married a short time later.

Toward the end of their military careers, both families were stationed at Camp Lejeune. My granddaughter, and Keith’s son, were in the same grade and classroom at Camp Lejeune. My grandson William is a year older than James. My youngest grandson and Keith’s daughter are the same age.

When Keith retired from the Marine Corps, his wife Karen wanted to go back to work. As it turned out, Karen was able to regain the same job in Washington, D.C. that she left when she married Keith half a lifetime earlier.

Keith in turn became “Daddy-care” for their three children. Since the kids are now much older, he periodically substitute-teaches at the school. He also likes being retired. His children are a top priority.

I learned yesterday that Cecelia is a picky eater. Perhaps she came by it naturally. According to information I learned for Craig and Becky on the phone last night, Keith doesn’t eat anything green.

When the waiter in the restaurant came to the table to take our order yesterday, Cecelia politely said that she didn’t want anything. She didn’t seem bothered by declining.

Keith proactively turned to the waiter and asked if they had french fries? They did. He aslo asked if they had chicken nuggets? They did. Consequently Cecelia didn’t have to go on a hunger strike while sharing lunch with a stranger.

Following lunch, Keith thoughtfully asked if they could drive me back to where I needed to be. He was open to taking me back to the office where I had left my luggage earlier that morning and then driving me to the Metro station. I was very grateful for the ride.

I normally don’t mind walking, but it was hot outside. I was also wearning a suit and tie. In addition, my luggage and backpack weigh a ton.

Long story short, I no longer think of Keith as Craig’s Marine Corps buddy. He is also my friend.

All the Best!

Don