My Best Friends Live in My Front Yard
Having statues as best friends has its perks
Having statues as best friends has its perks
I noticed my parents didn’t have many friends when I was a kid. At least they didn’t have friends that stuck around for long. My mom had a friend who lived around the block, but I don’t remember any of my father’s friends. They never came around the house, and I don’t remember having a babysitter unless it was my parent’s anniversary.
I had a lot of friends when I was young. From grade school through college, I made friends extremely fast. Sidano and Brian until high school, Joseph and Son in college, and eventually Son came back around and then left again. However, after working from home for three and a half years, my friends have become 0s and 1s.
They live in a world full of keystrokes and headphones. My friends exist across the country, ocean, and continents in Discord chats, Slack channels, emails, and Zoom meetings. Most of them I have never met and likely won’t. It’s not that I didn’t try to keep in-person friends, but I must have missed something.
I should have called more or, perhaps, left my wife at home with the kids more often. Whatever the reason, and no matter who’s to “blame,” I sit in this chair, typing on a keyboard, and wonder what notifications my phone has for me today.
However, I made two friends over the last three years, and they live in my front yard.
First, there’s Bodhisattva (pictured left). He has been with me the longest and looks a little more beat up than he used to. A few years ago, my wife and I wanted to do something with the corner of the house. Initially, it was supposed to be grass, but because I’m not great at yardkeeping, it turned into weeds and ants. So, we dug up the weeds, “re-homed” the ants, bought mulch and a swing, and went to work on our first, and so far only, outdoor renovation.
Even though I was happy with the result, I felt it was missing something. So, I went online and tried to find something that represented me and matched the area. As soon as I saw him, I knew he had to come live with me. I placed him behind the monkey grass to look at his smile while I swung in the porch swing.
I walked by him daily when I took the kids to school and smiled at him. He always smiled back. We could sit for an hour outside, meditating and relaxing. He never left through rain or shine, buried in a foot of snow, or more.
After two years and moving into a new house, I felt it was time for Bodhisattva to gain a new friend. I wrote last week that my spirit animal is a tortoise, so it should be no surprise who showed up next.
The name Littlefoot started as a real tortoise I used to own who met an untimely end. So, in honor of that poor little guy, I named this statue after him. Littlefoot is sitting outside my front door with Bodhisattva to graze upon the cool grass. In his own way, he also smiles at me.
For each friend, every morning when I walk by, I pat them on the head. So far, they have both been through some terrible weather. Tornado-like winds, the Texas power crisis 2021, and blistering outdoor heat of 114F every summer. But they never left me and are always happy to see me. I’ve sat outside in the sun and snow and talked about life, my family, and the loss of relatives.
Obviously, I don’t receive audible advice in return, but maybe putting words into the universe is what actually helps. I feel better afterward. Sometimes, in a marriage or as a father, there are some thoughts you just want to say out loud, but can’t. Interpretation is a strange mistress, and she can cause real damage to people’s perspectives. So, instead, I sit outside on my front porch and whisper to them.
I speak to the universe, and it listens. There is no judgment, corrections, or offers, just silence and stillness. The rustling of the branches on a tree is the only advice I need.
I know they won’t last forever, as no friends do. One of us will leave, and the other will move on to a new journey. But for now, as long as we are together, I will make the most of it with them. In fact, I need to go read this story to them.
I think they’ll be excited. After all, I can see it on their faces.