I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship lately. I’m blessed to have many good friends who care for me, who make me laugh and who encourage me to be the best I can be.
Then there are those friends who tell me things I really don’t want to know. They are the really good friends.
They are the friends who tell me things that I already know but I either A) Don’t want to talk about it, B) Don’t want to deal with it, or C) See A and B.
Oh, I don’t mind the occasional “meant to be helpful” comment such as: I don’t like your hair like that or, I think you’re a coffee snob. (Tell me something I don’t know about myself.) It’s the comments that make me think about myself--what I’m doing, or how I’m handling something that get to me. It’s the comments from my friends who really know me well and feel comfortable enough to verbally slap me into seeing a situation for what it is and then encouraging me to do something about it, that shows me they are good friends.
Here are a few recent examples:
Friend: “Have you scheduled the mammogram you said you would have a couple weeks ago?”
Me: “I will, I just have to take care of a few other things first...”
Friend: “I don’t want to hear that. I want you to pick up the phone and do it now. Capiche?
Friend: “So, what’s going on with your father for Thanksgiving? Have you demanded a sibling step up to the plate?”
Me: “I will but everyone is busy and...”
Friend: “Shut up and call someone, you can’t do everything all the time. Aren’t you a national speaker on this topic? Shouldn’t you practice what you preach?” (Ouch.)
And my favorite from a few years ago when I was in the thick of caregiving:
Friend: “You’re no fun anymore.” That one stung, but it did make me take action.
While most of us look to friends to support us and listen to our problems, great friends take it a step further--they try to help us. If you’re too defensive to have friends like that ... it’s too bad because I think they can help you to be a better, happier person. Certainly they can help you to become someone who is in less self-denial.
And for those “friends” who really aren’t’ trying to help but who can’t help criticize your choice of shoes, love of coffee or constant caregiving calls, they’re just mean. I drop ‘em like a hot potato. I don’t have the time or the interest anymore to be with toxic people.
As far as my ego goes-- I don’t need friends. I have children to keep me in check.
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday, August 17, 2009
Focus on Friends
Last night I stopped at my friend Bill’s house for a glass of wine. Well, a bottle...
We talked and laughed about dozens of things—including how much we both liked coffee,to travel and our friends. Then we talked about his best friend who passed away last year.
Bill got out his friend’s eulogy book (why didn’t I ever put one together for my mother?) and as we drank wine and talked, I read him all the lovely, touching and funny pages from the book. Bill and I read out loud a lot to each other. It’s a gift to have a friend to read to... and if you’ve never done it, it’s not quite as weird as you think.
We went to Kent, England and stayed at Hole Cottage two year’s ago. It’s one remaining wing of a once-much larger hall house. It is hidden away in the middle of the countryside and is now owned by the Landmark Trust. You have to hike a bit to get there, but it’s worth it to be so far away from everything.
There's a pub about a mile away, which we walked to in the dark of night. We talked with the locals, had a fabulous dinner and a pint, and brought home brie cheese and bread for the morning. There is nothing better than the aroma of brie on warm crusted bread, served with French pressed coffee and savored while sitting at a 400 year- old kitchen table.
We made a fire one night and read to each other from the visitors’ log. No T.V, no phone, just the sound of the fire, an occasional fox bustling outside and our reading and laughter.
When we weren’t talking, we enjoyed the joy of complete and utter silence. Did you know you can actually hear silence? Maybe it’s more of a feeling, but it’s there... and it envelopes you like nothing else.
I’m lucky to have many friends. They all fill a different purpose in my life and seem to always be there when I need them. I hope I am there for them as well. I try.
Although I never personally met Bill’s friend (he was Italian and gorgeous) I had talked with him on the phone. I feel like I knew him. And I felt a bit of him in the room last night as I read the Eulogy Bill had written. Bill’s words invited me into their friendship and their experiences.
I wonder what my friends would write about me?
We talked and laughed about dozens of things—including how much we both liked coffee,to travel and our friends. Then we talked about his best friend who passed away last year.
Bill got out his friend’s eulogy book (why didn’t I ever put one together for my mother?) and as we drank wine and talked, I read him all the lovely, touching and funny pages from the book. Bill and I read out loud a lot to each other. It’s a gift to have a friend to read to... and if you’ve never done it, it’s not quite as weird as you think.
We went to Kent, England and stayed at Hole Cottage two year’s ago. It’s one remaining wing of a once-much larger hall house. It is hidden away in the middle of the countryside and is now owned by the Landmark Trust. You have to hike a bit to get there, but it’s worth it to be so far away from everything.
There's a pub about a mile away, which we walked to in the dark of night. We talked with the locals, had a fabulous dinner and a pint, and brought home brie cheese and bread for the morning. There is nothing better than the aroma of brie on warm crusted bread, served with French pressed coffee and savored while sitting at a 400 year- old kitchen table.
We made a fire one night and read to each other from the visitors’ log. No T.V, no phone, just the sound of the fire, an occasional fox bustling outside and our reading and laughter.
When we weren’t talking, we enjoyed the joy of complete and utter silence. Did you know you can actually hear silence? Maybe it’s more of a feeling, but it’s there... and it envelopes you like nothing else.
I’m lucky to have many friends. They all fill a different purpose in my life and seem to always be there when I need them. I hope I am there for them as well. I try.
Although I never personally met Bill’s friend (he was Italian and gorgeous) I had talked with him on the phone. I feel like I knew him. And I felt a bit of him in the room last night as I read the Eulogy Bill had written. Bill’s words invited me into their friendship and their experiences.
I wonder what my friends would write about me?
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