For a while there, I was fretting that I wasn’t a good friend. Wasn’t attentive enough, wasn’t there for people. It was true, to an extent. But it wasn’t the whole picture.
My old friends and I grew apart. Their interests are not mine. I don’t like to shop, or wear fancy clothes, or watch Real Housewives. We don’t hang out with the same people. They are wonderful women, and I know they would still be there for me if I needed them, as I would for them. And I’d still like to hang out with them occasionally. But we are different and as our kids have grown older, it has become evident.
So then I wonder, do I have any real friends?
I realized today that the people I talk to the most, the ones I have the most in common with, the people I really, really like are my family. They get me, I get them.
Bill and I have grown up together. He knows me better than I know myself sometimes, and still loves me anyway. I am happy just to be with him.
My kids are some of the most wonderful, special people I know. Stefanie would give you the shirt off her back, and a couple bucks if she had some. And a place to sleep. She has a generous and courageous heart. Caitlyn is an exceptional mother and gives valuable insight. Ryan is a protector of the weak and has a strong moral compass. Declan’s wacky sense of humor and his offbeat thought process keep you on your toes. Owen demands and deserves the best from us and keeps us honest. Kevin and Koby are sons I would have chosen for myself.
My parents and siblings are people I could tell anything. My mother feels everything I feel, only more strongly. She is my emotional rock. My father has high expectations, but backs them up with big hugs. My sister is all out there for you to see and love. She lives her live courageously. My brother would take a bullet for any of us, then display it with pride.
I am fortunate enough to have in my life some very cool, funny, compassionate, smart individuals.
I work with many wonderful people too. I don’t call them my friends, but they’re much more than acquaintances. They are my work family. I don’t love them all, but I accept them for who they are, and I acknowledge their value to me. They are my brothers and sisters in my work world. They get me there, in that parallel universe.
So I do have friends. I even have some who aren’t family and who don’t work with me, just not many. But that’s fine with me.
I’m not an island after all, I guess.