I realize it’s a part of aging, but I’ve had far too many friends die in the last year.
Some have dealt with diseases that have no answers. Others have gone without a hint of illness. Both ways have been hard to reconcile.
While I’d like to think I let them know how much I cared about them, I still feel that nagging desire to have a conversation where I can lay it all on the line and tell them what their friendship meant.
With a friend as high-maintenance as me, I know I’ve appreciated their ability to listen and comfort. I’ve also loved their willingness to hear my complaints, laugh at my jokes and accept me at my worst.
True friends know they can talk to you any time of the day. They can come to your messy house, accept it for what it’s worth and always give a nudge where it’s needed the most.
People are also reading…
Friends don’t get mad at you. They get mad with you.
When they feel like venting, they vent. When they feel like bragging, they brag.
No one keeps score. No one cares who did what. That’s why you’re together for the long haul.
Yes, you talk about mutual friends. Yes, you hear their familial complaints. Yes, you sometimes sit in silence.
Always, though, you can feel like they’re there.
And then, sadly, they’re not.
Several times in the last year, I’ve picked up the phone thinking I might call one of those friends just to chat. I start to dial and realize how stupid I am. Oh, sure, you might get the friend’s voicemail and hear the voice you’ve been missing, but it’s not like those times when you talk about everything and nothing.
Holidays pass and you see things they should have seen. You try to sustain traditions, but you know they’re not the same without them.
In the last six months, I’ve looked at pictures and wondered if I’ll ever be able to have those moments again with others.
And, yes, I know I will.
But there’s something about a friend who comes into your life and helps define who you are. Friends educate us, even when it’s something as simple as paint color.
They broaden our palates, fill our worlds and make our houses feel like homes.
Spouses, parents, siblings and children can do the same thing. But you know you can say things to friends you wouldn’t dare say to your mother.
Friends accept the weight gain, understand the work woes and know what you mean when a certain loved one isn’t all that loving.
Friends are chosen, not given.
Even though they’re not physically with you forever, they’re always there – ready to lift you up with a laugh, a remembered moment, a familiar place.
“Don’t say goodbye,” one of those friends told me when the end was near. I didn’t – because I knew what she meant. Friendship is forever. Even death can’t take that away.
