Hi Everyone,

Overall, it’s been a great two weeks. While it’s a bummer not being able to walk and dealing with severe fatigue, I’ve been relatively stable. Stability means my blood work has been showing that my kidney function is holding low but steady, and my white blood cell count is in the normal range. Since I’m on a low dose of immunosuppressants, I’m finally able to see people again—which has been amazing! Being able to connect with friends after such a long stretch of isolation has made me reflect a lot on the role of friendship in my life.

Last Monday, my dear friend Lori, whom I met back in Colorado, called to say she was booking a last-minute ticket to visit while I had this window. She came Wednesday evening through Sunday afternoon, and it was a blast. We slipped right into a routine: playing with Barney in the morning, doing a floor workout, going to appointments, coming home for an afternoon nap (Lori binge-watched TV while I slept), playing with Barney when he got home, eating dinner, and going to bed.

When we lived in Colorado together, we had a similar rhythm, just matching the season in our lives because we were in our late twenties and early thirties. We both worked from home and often coworked in the afternoons. The difference was that back then, I had a white bichon poodle mix nudging for head rubs instead of a toddler wanting to be chased around. Evenings were dinners and hanging at the pool with friends, and weekends meant hikes or adventures—like the time we went to a ghost convention in Cripple Creek, an old mining town, and were the only two laughing uncontrollably during a ghost hunt while everyone else took it seriously.

We had other friends and separate lives, but in many ways our friendship was like a platonic marriage—deep conversations, goofing off, weekend trips and adventures.

That dynamic has shown up throughout my life: the preschool playmate I gave a BFF necklace to, the neighbor I built forts and rode bikes with, the college friend I spent countless hours with, and later my Colorado crew of four—including Lori—who became my everyday people.

Since moving to DC, I’ve made good friends I truly cherish, but it’s not quite the same as having someone nearby who shares your stage of life and becomes your default companion. Having Lori here reminded me of that joy—we slipped right back into our old dynamic, even if this chapter comes with far less energy on my part. Weekly catch-ups are wonderful, but they can’t quite replicate being together in person.

In the past, I was more dependent on these kinds of friendships, and when I didn’t have them, I often felt lonely and a little lost. COVID made it difficult to maintain these relationships, and being sick has made it challenging as well, since these friendships require both time and attention. Part of my journey has been learning not to rely on them so heavily. I even did some therapy work around this type of loss during the pandemic—but now I try to enjoy these friendships fully whenever I have the chance, appreciating them for what they are in the moment.

While I don’t have that rhythm right now, I trust that I may again someday—and when I do, I’ll welcome it with gratitude. In the meantime, having Lori here was a gift I treasured, loved, and welcomed with appreciation. Her visit was a beautiful reminder of what that rhythm feels like and how meaningful it can be.

Friendship takes on different shapes for all of us—some thrive in big groups, some in small circles, and some with just one or two close companions. However it looks, there’s nothing quite like finding that easy rhythm with a friend—or a circle of friends—when life allows.

Sending love,
Danielle

PS. I’ve attached a cute picture of Lori and me when we went out for Ian’s birthday dinner.