On Old Friends

On Old Friends

The last few days I have had the good fortune to be around some of my oldest and dearest friends. One has known me since we were 9 years old; two since we were 13; and one since college. What I love about being around these people is that they know me…I mean really know me; my character, my likes, my dislikes, my hopes and dreams and what makes me, well, me. They are the epitome of the slogan, “a friend is someone who knows everything about you, but likes you anyway”.  And thank goodness! Where would we be without those friends who look past our quirks and irritating habits to see the real us?

And that is the joy of deep, long lasting friendships, right? It’s not only the history you have with these people; it’s the way they know you. They can support you with a word or make something you’ve been dealing with suddenly so clear because they know your personality by heart. They can be thoughtful with you or call you out on your doo-doo.  A well-meaning question, (“is that who you want to be?”) can shake you up when it is said with the edgy kindness only one of these friends can get away with. They can tease you and have nicknames for you and know you are happy or sad just by the look in your eyes. Of course, time has no meaning with these friends. If you do not speak to or see one of them for years, the minute you are in each other’s presence, it’s as if no time has passed. I feel most relaxed around these friends; they give me an ease that soothes my soul.

They are a gift.

In our 20’s, Becky and I were roommates. We had met doing gymnastics in the 5^th grade and had competed together up through our teen years. A wrist injury ended my career in high school and I didn’t see her for a few years until I bumped into her one day at Fashion Gal. I remember being so happy to see her but she stayed on the other side of the circular clothes rack while we caught up. Finally, somewhat sheepishly, she said she had gained some weight, a true horror for any gymnast, even one who had not competed in years, and stepped out from behind the rack. And yes, she had gained weight, but I remember thinking, “Um, I don’t care.” When I didn’t judge her or recoil in horror, she relaxed. I think she saw herself through my eyes. Weight was a huge issue while we were competing; we were fat tested on a regular basis, weighed before and after practice, and punished for even the slightest weight gain. So, I can see why she was hesitant. I’m sure she wondered if I would take my friendship away, but once she saw that I saw her, not her weight gain, a trust was born that has seen us through good and bad times all these later.

And she has done the same for me over the years. During college, a snarky girl that we were acquainted with asked why I had so many male friends. She said it in an accusatory way in front of a bunch of people and I have to admit that I was totally taken aback. It would never occur to me to not be friends with someone because they were male…some of my very best friends were male…and I was speechless (a rarity in those days). As she stood there glaring at me, I sputtered back, “Well, why wouldn’t I? “ Becky, in her matter of fact way, said, “Susie is an equal opportunity friend. She doesn’t care if you are male or female, black or white, tall or short, fat or skinny. If you have the qualities she is looking for, she is your friend.” The girl walked off and I just remember thinking, “Yeah, I am like that.” Thanks, Bec. And, I continue to use that line today. I AM an equal opportunity friend…and yes, people (women) still ask why I am friends w/ males. You want to know what is great about having male friends? Some of my best girl friends are the girl friends or wives of my male friends. Cool guys marry cool girls. Enough said.

Lonny is one of the aforementioned male friends. We met in Health Ed when we were 13. We had a brief conversation and that was it…friends for life. Lonny was the brother I never had; he wouldn’t so much as warn me about boys, but would tell me how they are made up and would clue me in on the characteristics of some of the ones I found myself interested in. He took care of me in a way that I hadn’t experienced before…I think it was the first time I understood what the phrase, “I have your back” meant. That’s Lonny. He has my back. Well into our college years when I found myself brokenhearted over a boy, I drove myself to his house and walked in after one knock as usual. He was on the couch watching a movie and I walked over, buried my face in his chest and cried. And cried. And cried. Now, a girl friend would ask a lot of questions and we would hash it out bit by bit. Lonny just let me cry, rubbing my back until I was all cried out. I blew my nose, asked what he was watching (The Terminator) and finished the movie with him. He never asked what was wrong, never offered advice, which is probably why I went to him instead of Becky or another girl friend. Sometimes you just need a shoulder to cry on and to not have to explain what is happening at that moment in time. He knew me well enough to know this was one of those times.  

As I recount these times and think on these long lasting friendships, I feel so blessed. I also have been comparing them to my newer friends and I realize some of these newer friends I’ve known for six or seven years! In a world filled with fair weather friends and many people who suffer from the Princess and the Pea syndrome (everyone annoys them), I again count myself blessed to have people who stick around. It is such a blessing to have people who are pulling for you and who truly care about you. And a bigger blessing is to be able to pull and care for them in return.

I had some of these newer friends over for a pool party the other day and I remember just thinking how much I liked these women. Some I have just gotten to know within the last year and others I have known for a lot longer than that, but each is so kind hearted, spirited, sincere, honest, trustworthy, that spending time together energizes me. We can share anything with each other because no one is a gossip and when I go for a week or so without talking to them, I feel off somehow. Yup…friendship is such a blessing!

And the key really is this…because there are mean people out there who pretend to be your friend and then share what you’ve told them with others and ridicule you for it; there are people who use you to get something they want and then ditch you; there are people who smile to your face and turn and roll their eyes. Right? We’ve all been hurt by these “friends. So the key is this…be the friend you want to be and use your discernment when it comes to people. Their character will let you know if they are a fair weathered friend or a friend who will know everything about you but like you anyway.

Cheers to the ones who like you anyway!

On Being "Michael's Mom"

Eighteen hours of labor. And then a C-section. That is how Michael came into the world. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but it is not what I really remember about his birth. What I remember is the next day. It is early morning and I hear him crying…I am in the hospital and I hear him in the distance crying. The thing is, I have not heard him cry yet, so how do I know it is Michael? But, there is no question in my mind that my son is crying and he is not happy and I try to get out of bed but that is not possible. I am completely sore, stapled, and the drugs must have worn off because I feel pain. So, I start calling to him. I hear nurses talking and him crying but they do not hear me so I muster all my energy and just start screaming his name. This interrupts their conversation and within seconds they wheel Michael into the room and yes, he is crying his head off. I am ferocious and the look on my face makes both nurses apologize over and over. I reach out and they place my son in my arms and all is well for both of us.

As I hold him I think to myself; yesterday I gave birth, but today I am a MOTHER.

From that day forward my world changes. I instinctively know things about motherhood and there is so much love inside of me for this pooping, screaming, yellow thing that it surprises me immensely. My husband tells me I am glowing, and I do feel that glow from the inside out.

Fast forward a few years and Michael is in school. It is not the first day of school that I remember, it is a regular old Tuesday and I am going to pick up Michael from his afterschool program. As I walk to the building a little girl and her Mom are walking in the opposite direction…we exchange nods and hellos but as we pass I hear the little girl say to her Mom in a loud whisper…”that’s Michael’s Mom!” and, my heart grows three sizes that day. Michael’s Mom! I am Michael’s Mom! Even now, all these years later that is the name I identify with and relish. It fills me with the love I will always carry for him no matter that he is 22 and on his own and doesn’t need me in the same way anymore. 

It is who I am.

I’ve often wondered why I love that moniker so much. I think, now, it just encompasses everything that is important. It signifies the little day in and day out events that make someone a Mother and somehow makes it all worth it. Yes, I am the one who wakes up w/ him in the night when he is sick, I am the one he gets mad at because I discipline him, I am the one who tells him to clean his freaking room a hundred times before he does it. I am HIS mother. He is mine and I am his. It is that bond that binds us together forever and ever and ever.

As his Mother, there have been times that have grieved my soul, there have been times when we have laughed ourselves silly, there have been times that we cried together, and there have been times when I have been so mad I literally wanted to send him to his room until he was 35. I have prayed over him and steadied myself from saving him from a needed lesson learned.

As a mother, I am of course, proud of my son. He is still the apple of my eye and the one good thing I have done in this world. I have regrets and wish I would have done some things differently, but I have loved (almost) every minute of it. I look at him and love the person he has grown into…and looking back at the past 22 years of being Michael’s Mom, my heart again grows and I feel that glow rising up inside of me. It is love; love of a child and knowing I am still that ferocious Mom should the need ever arise.

Happy Mother’s Day

On Gossip

On Gossip

As far back as I can remember, I have never liked gossip. As a young school girl, it always hurt my feelings when my little friends would say mean things about another girl, whether I knew her or not, whether I agreed with them or not; it bothered me. And, I learned very early that if you didn’t participate in said gossip, they would turn on you. It has been a painful lesson for most of my life.

Now that I am a grown woman I wonder about what makes people gossip? And I specifically mean the kind of gossip that women do to other women. If I don’t like someone, no one knows it but me. But, these women, if they don’t like someone, they have to get everyone to join in the dislike with them. So, they bad mouth this person in a form that usually starts with, “I love Jane, but….” and what follows can be anything from “oh my  gosh, she just annoys me…she is always talking about herself!” to “oh my gosh, does she have to put LML on every FB status?” Yes, these are actual things I have heard women say about other woman. Once the “offense” is pointed out, then everyone starts to notice and gets annoyed with Jane as well. And suddenly, Jane is being (politely) ignored.

I believe that a woman who has to get everyone to dislike who they dislike is just insecure. (Or leads a truly boring life so their only excitement is of the Peyton Place variety). Jane probably displays a trait she wishes she had or she feels Jane is prettier or smarter or more together. Or whatever. Rarely do I hear someone dislike someone else over something significant…like a breach of trust or sleeping with their spouse. You know, something that is truly hurtful and truly cause for dislike.

And that is where I find myself now. And it’s odd really. You go about your business living your life and suddenly, one or two women that you are FB friends with start ignoring you; and it is so slight you barely notice it, because, of course, you are busy living your life. Mind you, these are women you haven’t been in the same room with; had a face to face or phone conversation with; and truly are “friends” you see every once in a great while. But mostly, you “like” their comments or comment on their posts…and they yours. Until, as I said, you notice that has stopped. On their side.  It usually takes me another step to realize this is happening because as I have no contact with them, why in the world would they be ignoring me? Case in point, I sent an email to one of these women with a specific question and didn’t get a response. No big deal.  A few days later I posted on her wall and she deleted it. Hmm. I don’t really know this person and can’t figure out why she would be doing this so I send another email asking if I have done something to hurt her feelings? Nothing. So then I start thinking and all the ignoring becomes clear.

I shrug it off…I don’t really know her and clearly her character is not what I thought it to be. No loss. Until…her gossip reaches a woman I believed was my friend. Not a FB friend, a real friend. A friend who has been there for me through several tough times. A friend who I stood up for when gossip came her way. And now she is ignoring me, too. And I have to say, it hurts. I have no idea what is being said. Since January my life has been revolving around me quitting my job and recovering from pneumonia. I haven’t seen people except for my closest friends and I know I haven’t offend anyone, least of all her. And yet, here I sit with the knowledge that someone I don’t really know is talking badly enough about me to reach the ears of a friend, who come to find out, really isn’t. And for me, it all goes back to the question…”Why do women talk about other women behind their backs?” And, rhetorically, what do they get out of it? A sense of power that they can influence people? Or are they just mean? Or bored? Or passive aggressive?

All this is really to say, my feelings are hurt and the loss of even one friend is hard when you have actually done something to deserve it, but stings a little bit more when you haven’t. Because there is nothing you can do. If you have wronged someone or hurt their feelings by something you have actually done, there is a chance to apologize, to make amends, to heal the friendship. But when it happens through gossip, through nothing you have actually done, only by what someone has said about you, there is nothing you can do to make it right. If they were truly your friend and you were being annoying in some heinous way, they would tell you to your face, not gossip about it behind your back to the point where others stop talking to you. Or, if a true friend heard gossip about you, they would defend you, not ignore you. So, you are left with the knowledge that people are talking, others are listening, and there is nothing you can do about it.

I am reminded of a woman I knew a few years ago who I didn’t particularly like, and she didn’t particularly like me. We were both secure enough to know that our personalities just didn’t mesh and that was that. We were cordial to each other, laughed together, discussed topics of the day, rejoiced in each other’s victories and were saddened for the other when life gave us each a kick. None of our mutual friends knew we didn’t like each other…our close friends did, of course, but it was a non-issue. We didn’t back bite each other or try to “win” people to our side. We just were mature enough to know that just because you don’t like someone, well, it doesn’t mean a thing. So what if I didn’t like her? So what if she didn’t like me? She was around for some of the most fun times I had with that group of friends. What if we had let our dislike rule the day?  Our circle of friends would not have stayed in tack and we would have each missed out on a lot of fun times.

I believe you can like people for what they are or you can dislike them for what you think they should be. In this woman I didn’t like, I was able to find things to like about her; she was a talented artist, quick witted, and I had to admire that even though she didn’t like me, she kept her mouth shut.

And I think, oh how nice the world would be if everyone behaved like she did.