We've become fairly well entrenched in the small city where we live, as I've mentioned before, to the point that as friends have moved, or have begun to talk about moving away, I consider the sadness of their leaving.
It isn't as if we don't or won't see each other again. We just won't have the ease of dropping in on each other for a cup of tea at a moment's notice, or of running into each other at the diner.
I may never get a repeat of the time I stopped my car in the middle of the street to back up and grab a curbside space when I spotted a friend working in her front garden one Saturday. We chatted for a good long while before I finally got back in my car and drove home and she returned to her gardening.
That's the joy of living in a small city: having friends I hold close to my heart living right around the corner.
The friend who paused from her gardening has been moving during this holiday weekend. She and her beloved will still be around as they finish cleaning things from the old house and moving into the new. I will miss them both.
But lives change. People move away. We're all moving on to different stages of our lives and, for some, that means retirement living. Someday. Someday.