Lucy and Ethel

By Ron Sinclair

I escorted two beautiful ladies to lunch a few days ago. It’s not the first time either. My wife even knows about it. Of course, she is one of the two. And it wasn’t like a date or anything. I happened to be driving the car, so I got to go. I thoroughly enjoyed the company, and the food was good. The Whistle Stop in Travelers Rest, SC is a pretty good restaurant.

Marcia and Wanda are best friends and have been in every sense of the word for more than 67 years. They met in third grade when both were 10. Don’t do the math. Just think about how many of us are lucky enough to have a deep friendship that lasts longer than even a few years. Most of us can’t even begin to understand what it is like to share a deep bond for so long. Marcia’s fond of reminding me that “women don’t tell everything. You need some mystery.” That may be true, but I have a feeling that the two of them hoard more secrets than all the gold in Fort Knox. I don’t believe there are many mysteries between them.

Somehow, without sharing gossip, they find enough words to talk multiple times each week on the phone for an hour or more. I promise that I never listen in, unless Marcia’s voice sounds like they are up to something. But the laughter! Sometimes Marcia giggles or cackles out loud and I know there’s a story being told that I will likely hear about after the call has ended. Any inhibitions lesser friends maintain are lost after so many years of openness and trust. Many a phone call has started with the words “I did a Lucy today.” And the foolishness begins unraveling as “Ethel” listens to the tale and guffaws on the other end of the line. They take turns being “Ethel” and “Lucy,” and sometimes are both in the same conversation, each telling on themselves for some self-inflected humiliating experience. (NOTE for younger readers: there was once a television show starring comedienne, Lucille Ball. She and her next door neighbor, Ethel were always on some misadventure, hilariously detailed on each episode.)

Of course not every phone call is filled with laughter. The highs and lows of everyday life are shared as well. When one is down, the other is always ready to listen and either offer a shoulder to lean on, or sometimes even advice. It’s a beautiful thing to witness. And in true times of crisis, both have made themselves physically present in support of the other.

After years of living in Texas near her son and daughter, Wanda has moved back to Travelers Rest, SC. Her son and his family have moved there as well, and have built a house next door to the one Wanda now calls home. In-person visits are possible again. I don’t believe they occur often enough to suit either. But now that Wanda has settled a bit, we hope they occur on a regular basis. Marcia once told me that when she and Wanda were girls, they used to talk about getting old and sitting on the porch together breaking beans and sharing all the stuff good friends share. I guess some good things do indeed come true.

Wanda, if you are reading this, we’ve left the light on for ya’.

“Old Friends” 
~ By Paul Simon

“Old friends, old friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old friends
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settle like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be 70
Old friends, memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears.”