In the fall of 2020, my son Owen left our small Connecticut town to embark on a journey; his first year attending Trinity College Dublin, in the land of his grandmother’s birth.
Though Covid had the world firmly in its grip, Owen held high hopes. We all did. And arriving the next morning at 5 am, Irish time, he lay down his bags, eagerly awaiting the arrival of five flatmates, four from Ireland and one, a country unknown.
But when Owen called home that evening, his voice was downcast, “No one came mom.”
And so it was. Those four Irish flatmates never did materialize, choosing instead to study remotely from home, with the continued bonus of their mam’s home cooking. Owen’s meals, supplied by the college, arrived by phantom delivery, vacuum packed and sterile.
The students that did come were confined to their flats, the only allowance being a short jaunt around the courtyard for exercise. Classes for the foreseeable future, remote.
A country in lockdown. A college dream on hold.
Then a text from Owen the next morning, a glimmer of hope in his words, “My first and only flatmate just arrived from India mom. His name is Nikhil, he is 6”6, and a gentle giant.”
And with those words, a friendship was born.
Nikhil was a constant fixture in not just the flat they share, but in Owen’s room as well and often joined in on our FaceTime calls. He encouraged Owen to take up soccer and to join him for daily swims in the Irish Sea, a brave undertaking due to the frigid water. Owen taught Nikhil American slang and laughed as Nikhil, a quick learner, enthusiastically described the “sick” party they attended the other night.
Their admiration for each other is evident. Owen describes Nikhil as the nicest person he has ever met. And Nikhil, an only child, once told me, “Owen is my best friend Mrs. Simmons, and will be the best man in my wedding someday.”
When I remind Owen to be wary late at night returning home to campus, he responds, “Oh, no one would ever bother us when Nikhil is around. Everyone is afraid of him given his size. If they only knew how nice he is.”
They are friends as the saying goes, in good times and in bad. One evening, Owen called to tell me he thought he had a fever but had forgotten to pack a thermometer. “Can you ask Nikhil if he has one?” I suggested, worried it might be Covid. I hear the sounds of my son’s furious texting and then, not 30 seconds later, a frantic rap, rap, rap on the door – Nikhil to the rescue, thermometer in hand.
As the pandemic eased, the two friends experienced a far different world; in-person lectures, participating in sporting events and clubs, attending the Trinity Ball, or simply enjoying a pint of Guinness together in a Dublin pub. They have traveled to neighboring European cities to learn of different cultures and have visited both the near and the far corners of the magnificent Irish countryside.
For two strangers who had made it through the rain, life was good again.
Owen and Nikhil completed their studies at Trinity College this past May. In the fall of this year, they will return to that historic campus as they did four years ago, to attend their graduation ceremony. But this time, to a Dublin city alive once again with music and song. They realize it may be the last time they are together again, as life is taking them in different directions; Nikhil will remain in Dublin and Owen in the US.
But that is okay. For theirs is a friendship stronger than any pandemic.
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