Conversations...friendships...and the rest is history

There is no doubt that chance meetings and conversations have impact. I know this to be true.  I once had a conversation with a man, who would try to get me to go out with him, only to discover that the woman he had broken up with, was an acquaintance of mine.  He and I had to take a road trip for work. That 16 hour road trip, would produce a discussion of profound impact.  The result would be that the man and the woman in question would  reunite and  marry a short time later.  That was 12 years ago.  They are still madly in love, and very much grateful for a road trip, and a certain conversation.  (I just asked a lot of questions) 😉

Arnold Lakhovsky, The Conversation (circa 1935)

I could relate hundreds of important conversations over my lifetime.  Some resulted in good things for me, some resulted in life time friendships, and some resulted in great sorrow.  In any case, it is our desire to share our thoughts and feelings that propel us into the deep waters of conversation.  I am not the only one that feels that way. 

“She just smiled, said that she loved books more than anything, and started telling him excitedly what each of the ones in her lap was about. And Ove realized that he wanted to hear her talking about the things she loved for the rest of his life.”        Fredrik Backman, A Man Called Ove

“More of your conversation would infect my brain.”
― William Shakespeare, Coriolanus

Or this : “How’s your father?”

“How do you think he is? You stabbed him in the foot.”
“I would have aimed for his heart, but I wasn’t sure he actually had one. Do any of you have one?”
― G.A. Aiken, Dragon Actually

I used to have conversations with a checkout person at my local market.  We became, checkout friends over 6  years.  I would tell her about my life, she would talk about hers.  It was just something that happened organically.  We never saw each other outside of the store, but somehow, we considered ourselves friends.  When she was diagnosed with cancer, I suffered the same way, I would have with any of my life long friends. It finally would take her life. I went to her memorial service.  Her husband was there.  I introduced myself...and he smiled broadly..."You are the Alaskan Lady".  Indeed I was.  No name, just a description of where I was from...and you know, I realized I was lucky to have gone to that little market if only to meet Stephanie, who was my "Seattle Lady"...by way of the Apple Market. 

 

So, that is how it is with chance meetings, sometimes.  One very important chance meeting took place in a Dry Goods place in 1837.  It would be a moment...that would impact two men, and perhaps a nation.  

Joshua Speed was the owner of the Dry Goods Store, and the man who would change a nation...Abraham Lincoln was customer.  Lincoln was requesting supplies for a bed. Speed said the cost would be US$17, which ended up being too pricey for the visitor, who asked instead for credit until Christmas.

 

Speed spontaneously came up with an alternative plan. He said he had a large room upstairs above the store and a double bed he was happy to share. Without a word, Lincoln picked up saddlebags that contained his life’s possessions and walked upstairs. He came back down and said, with a big smile, “Well, Speed, I’m moved.”

So began what would become one of the most important friendships in American history. It was a friendship that proved redemptive for Lincoln, helping him through two serious, suicidal bouts of depression that threatened his relationship with his future wife and his political ambitions.

That is the case for many friendships.  A chance meeting.  A moment.  And then a lifetime perhaps, or simply a brief encounter.  But, it always starts with conversation. 

We learn about each other, through conversation.  As always...this leads me to a song, about, what else...conversations. 

One last word about conversation.  It is not all about talking.  Lincoln was not known as a social butterfly.  But, he was becoming a Politician, which meant that he had to attend obligatory social events.  On one such occasion, he met with the hostess of the party.  He sat down and introduced himself.  She was delighted to have the opportunity to meet with this man, and began to talk.  She spoke for almost an hour straight, when a friend of Lincoln's came to his rescue.  The hostess would later report that she wanted him at all of her parties because he was..."such a good conversationalist." When asked by his friend about this, Lincoln reported, "I spoke only a few words, and nodded a lot." Why then had she described him as such a good conversationalist?  Easy...he listened, and let the woman carry on a conversation about things that mattered to her. He never stopped her, he simply gave his whole attention to her.  A rare thing...and thus she found his "conversational" skills to be rare indeed.

So that my friends...is the crux of the story. 

“The art of conversation lies in listening”
― Malcolm Forbes

I would agree with that...and so would a certain hostess. 

Love, 

The Lass