Ivy has been my constant companion these past several weeks. And, I'm sorry to say that despite the many times I try hard to avoid her, she pursues me like a true friend. She really gets under my skin – literally.
I've known Ivy for some twenty years now and she usually plans her visits in the heat of the summer when I'm most likely to sweat and swell. We meet in the cool of the forest while enjoying the prairie paths and then she follows me home. In her carefree, breezy manner, she also tags along with my little dachshunds, following them home, bringing an unseen presence into our lives. It's almost magical the way she appears and re-appears.
I'm amazed at my dear friend's stick-to-it-ness, her ability to love on me through my daily work schedule and then, oh how she keeps me company in the wee hours. When I'm having trouble sleeping, there she is spurring me on to more challenges.
My latest conversations with Ivy began about four weeks ago out on our little road that travels to the back pasture. I have to admit most of our discussionss are a bit one-sided with me ranting and raving while she demurely turns red before my eyes. The objective that Saturday was photo opportunities on the prairie. It was an enjoyable outing, winding my way through the prairie grasses, the trees, and all those little stands of jagged leaf green plants. Ivy followed right along, teasing me with her abrasive humor once we returned home.
Yes, that's my dear friend Ivy. I've come to respect her place in my life . . . and accept her annoying nuisances. She reminds me again and again that to be a friend we have to be vulnerable and willing to accept the good with the bad; the beautiful and the ugly. In sickness and in health . . . friendship, like a marriage, is about the coming together of two forgivers. Right?
Well, I don't think Ivy got that memo. While I'm willing to forgive her discretions, despite how tiresome they may be, I've heard no apology from her all these many years.