I have two friends who were recently both injured at their jobs. The first one sent a lasagna to the second, just as the second was getting ready to drop off a lasagna for the first.
That what we do.
You drop off delicious homemade eggplant parmesan after my son is born. When you have your first little girl, I drop off a rotisserie chicken from Wegmans along with a bag of salad, Italian bread and cookies (because I don’t cook).
I find your three-year-old who has climbed over our shared fence in my kitchen looking for a snack. Years later, you come home to find a giant pair of sneakers by your front door and my son, home from college, hanging out on your couch eating a bowl of cereal.
On the way to work, I see your son who is rushing, super late for school. I pick him up and deliver him safely, and on time. When my son forgets his keys you let him stay at your house and feed him dinner when I am running late.
When I get home from summer vacation, you have replenished my fridge with milk and bread. When you get home from Thanksgiving vacation, I have turned up your heat so you’ll come home to a warm house.
When I am far away, visiting relatives, my dog who is staying with a dog sitter becomes seriously ill and his body starts to shut down. You take him to the emergency vet and pet him and tell him what a good boy he is while I sob over the phone—I still owe you for that one.
I have tissues and hugs ready for when you need a good cry. And you have the same ready for me.
Thank you friends, women, wonderful people. So glad I have you to trade lasagnas with. Couldn’t do this without you.