If you knew my friend as many of us do, you’d say we’re close.

She is about as standoffish as can be. Since she left the department a couple of years ago, she’s kept in contact with only two or three people, and we two have lunch relatively regularly — perhaps once a month or so.

She’s not one for touch. We’ve a joke about hugging — it drives her crazy. So giving her a “big hug” means I *very lightly* and very quickly touch her back with a finger. I usually award her such a “hug” as we leave from wherever we’ve lunched and head back to our respective offices.

Today we had lunch as usual — we shared family drama over sandwiches and salads. I told her about the drama that is sure to come over Thanksgiving (See "Coming Out (About the Move)",11/2/2010), and used that to tell her about the plans. She nearly choked when I told her when I’m going. (I’ve been getting that a lot lately.)

She offered me some valuable information, too — instead of leaving work I can take a two-year leave. This is valuable insofar as if we come back here and I hire back in, the years I’ve already put in will count for retirement/pension purposes. Damn handy thing to know.

As we walked out, we reached the point where we were to go on our separate ways. Then something happened — she reached out and hugged me.

It wasn’t one of those big hugs like I ordinarily give. When I hug, I hug like I mean it — I’ve been told that time and again. For me, it’s part of where I came from. She doesn’t hug. She simply doesn’t. I was… I was stunned. I still am.

If you knew my friend as many of us do, you’d HAVE to say we’re close.

– Tony