An Unlikely Friendship

It was a year ago, this very day, a friend of mine died.

I use not the term "friend" loosely here, as Vernette was indeed someone I thought quite highly of, and I appreciated every moment of time we shared.  She was not a person in my neighborhood I see walking her dog and engage in small talk whenever we pass.  She was not anyone I ever worked with, in any of the jobs in which I have been employed.  We never endured together the struggles of the work environment and the arduous task of the worker garnering respect from the employer.  She was not anyone I knew from my many days of schooling, nor from any of the various church associations of which it could be said I was a part.  No, Vernette was a woman I never met in person.  We never spoke on the phone, nor did she ever share a picture from which I could draw some image in my mind.  Our correspondence ran solely through this medium of emails and messaging.

It began when she discovered a common ancestor the two of seemed to share.  A family out of England, back in the 1600s, saw descendants emigrate to America, as well as Australia, the country of which Vernette called her home.  It seemed, at first, we would be distant, distant cousins, which would have been an extraordinary find for any soul interested in their family history.  To discover a relative from another state within the country in which you personally reside is one thing; to find a relation from an entirely different country itself is a rare jewel to unearth.

As it played out, such a connection was not to be.  Initially, we shared the typical in-law or a brother who married the cousin of a sister who was the in-law of blah, blah, blah.  Now, in a revelation I discovered after Vernette's passing, the connection is closer, as a first cousin three times removed of hers married a third cousin twice removed of mine.  It's still not a familial relationship; and maybe that okay.  I treasured every letter received from this "pot-smoking, atheist granny" because we stripped away what was different (on the surface, we shared nothing in common), discovered what was important, and related to one another on that level.  She may be the only person I have ever known, who knew me for who I am, and accepted me anyway.  That is a friend.