Someone once told me that having a lot of friends is not necessarily the best thing in the world. He told me that having one or two that you can love, trust, someone who cares and shares from the heart, is about all one needs. I think he was right.
I had such a friend. His name was Carl and he was from that land of windmills and dykes and tulips and clogs - Holland. I can say "Holland" now, but in his presence, it always had to be the Netherlands, or "Nayderlont", as he so musically pronounced it.
Carl passed several years ago, but recently my daughter revived my love and respect for this painter and artist. She had visited Amsterdam, and in that city of canals and one "built upon dodgy foundations both literally with sand, wood, and gravel laid upon one another to build the ever sinking architecture" as she put it. "I wanted to see it through his eyes." In her own recollections, she helped me recall my friendship with this ballet-loving Dutchman.
Each Saturday morning, weather and social schedules permitting, Carl and I had breakfast together. He and I almost always had the same thing: eggs Benedict and whole wheat toast for him; American omelet and white toast for me.
Carl was an ancient, full of wisdom and experience. I was almost 20 years his junior, yet I remained engrossed by tales of his boyhood in his native Holland, his adventures in the Dutch underground, and his constant efforts to keep his painting alive as a meaningful part of his life.
Carl and I talked about the old days and compared them to how we lived today. We shared our lives as if we were lending each other our favorite books, eliciting views and opinions. I never fail to admire and cherish this man who still showed great vitality after so many years. Yet, he called me "smart as a vip" in his delightful accent, because I programed his VCR or fix the lock on his back door that only needed some oil.
Every Saturday, Robert and I had lunch together. Robert was no more than a child at the time, full of innocence and pep. He is my son. Robert did not have a favorite eating place; we could go anywhere - to a fast food place, an established restaurant, or a drive-through. Robert talked about his favorite fire truck books, how he liked snow, and what he was going to do later on in the day. Talking about next month, next year, or even next Wednesday was beyond Robert. His was the world of the moment, the immediate. Life was much too exciting to think about what it could be, or what it once was.
Meeting with these two, a young child, probing his world with eyes and ears, and Carl, with years of kindly "been there done that" was uniquely stimulating. I considered myself very fortunate as I swung between their two worlds, mixing maturity with the unadorned, wisdom with guilelessness, and venerability with the unexplored. Aside from their differences in age and experience, they had much in common. Both had a wonderful sense of humor. Both chose their words carefully. Both had a sparkle in them as they relate their own images of life.
This kind of recipe is powerful against all kinds of assaults by the world of mediocrity and the commonplace. Both gave me a sense of the future and the past. Carl is my future -- one not mired in worn and archaic bearings, but of continued enlightenment. Through him, I experience the wisdom of his past, and I delight in his vitality.
Robert also represents the future, for obvious reasons. I also saw,and still see my past in his young bright eyes, in his eagerness to explore new horizons. Carl talked about mixing new colors; Robert dragged me out at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning to crack ice in the puddles on the dirt road. Carl mapped out his designs on foolscap; Robert traced his in the frost on the window pane.
Breakfast with Carl and Robert, had no age, no education, or the lack of interfering with the way of these two individuals enjoyed each other's company. I watched them and was filled with affection.
My being with the two of them gives rise to the thought that this is what families, or communities, should be like. Carl teaches me principles and learning. Robert teaches me trust and aspiration.
Between these two friends, I reveled in two worlds, taking from each the very best to maintain and build my own.
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