I should be peppering you with stories of my childhood and how my mom did all these cool things and taught me all this awesome stuff that made me the woman I am today… I should be talking about how I think mother’s day is important and really we shouldn’t need a specified day to recognize the work our mothers (or mother figure… not all of us had nuclear moms) put in to raising us… I should be going on and on about the fabulous things I did to show the moms in my life how special they are. I should be doing a lot of things… Yes, I have stories from my childhood and times with my mother, not what you are thinking of. My mom is definitely a cool woman, worthy of all the kudos mom’s should get, and there is one thing she taught
me that has shaped part of me for sure “if at the end of your life you can count all of the true friends you’ve had on one hand, you are leaving a rich woman”. I’ve lived my life and shaped my friendships this way, it hurts. She didn’t tell me that part. None the less, we shouldn’t need a date on the calendar to tell our mom she is special, that we wouldn’t be here without her and for that we owe her our eternal thanks.
No, no… instead I sit here reflecting on my own life, probably more than I should. And I guess in a way it’s related to my mom and her shaping me and I can say I wrote a post for mother’s day after all :o) I’m thinking about friendship and the tightrope it can balance on. I have many, many (many – really did I stress this??) acquaintances. I am a social girl, that isn’t ugly (unfortunately that matters) and is social in a college town where the bartenders are mostly my age. I also have the advantage of being adopted as a local and knowing many of them by proxy (story for another day). I have a hand full of people I’d call my friends. Those people that
I hang out with from time to time and call up to chat about whatever. These are the people that I’d invite to a dinner party or maybe a reception if I were to have such an event (shudders and makes that sound with lips that can’t be spelled- kinda like brrr but a little deeper). These friends are not people that I could count at the end of my life. They won’t be there when I am having a nervous breakdown or just tired and need someone to go get a beer with me. These are not people who will give up their cocktail to be my designated driver. Then there are the close friends…
the ones that will go get a beer with you and still be your friend when their friend (that they’ve known longer- way longer) decides to act out some douche like shenanigans and drop your ass. These are the friends that will help you move and meet you for lunch. They are good friends. But they aren’t your confidant. Those are the true friends.
We all had one in high school – that best friend that we did everything with and looked ridiculous with and said we’d be prom dates with if they didn’t get asked by their dream date…. That person will have a spot in our treasure chest for always, whether or not they still have a gem there. Then there are those friends that you grow with as adults – the one you call at 3am because you can’t sleep so why should they?? or because you met the hottest man ever or slept with the hottest man ever or got dumped by the hottest man ever or wonder when you are going to meet the hottest man ever… its this friend that reminds you the hottest man ever need only be hot to you and you will know. This is the friend you talk to eleventeen times a day or one but contact is made and even though you only talked about the appointment to get your hair did on Tuesday, you talked – actual
talk… voice, not text. It’s a day to day thing. This is the friend you will call when you you find out your husband filed for divorce. This is the friend that will know to bring Ben & Jerry’s “Phish Food” when your dad dies and to just carry the phone to the car and come immediately to wherever you are when its your mom. This person will claim a finger at the end of our life, regardless of how far away that may be. These are the friends that make you rich. It may be one person the whole time, it may be a group of two or three, but their gems are the biggest ones in the chest. Every once in a while you think you lost one of those gems… that
beautiful pale blue topaz that was nestles so tightly in its spot for so long… you weep and mourn the loss of a treasure that you can never replace, but wait… just maybe, its got dislodged from its cozy little spot. You had that accident where your heart (I mean treasure box) got hit pretty hard from all sides and you just couldn’t triage fast enough….It isn’t the same gem and doesn’t fit where it once sat… but it still has its claim on your middle finger.
Maybe this is a mother’s day post after all. I’ve been hurt for giving unconditionally, just like my mom taught me. And just like she taught me… I wouldn’t change it.
