Friends. We actually need more words to differentiate the types of friends.
There are the acquaintance friends who are coworkers or neighbors or have children in your child's class. They are kind and have potential, but you don't really know them. To change categories, you need to spend more time together and see where it leads - like dating. You may find out you have so much in common or have such fun together that they switch categories.
There are Christmas card friends. They are people you like and would probably do more together if it were more convenient or you had more time. You may make a deeper connection with them if you live closer or when your kids are older and your weekends have more free time. You care about them and don't want to lose touch - hence the Christmas cards.
The best are what I call the "Comfy Old Bathrobe" friends. Many women have in their closets the "comfy, old bathrobe." You know the one. It has coffee stains which won't wash out, hair dye stains from the weekends when you didn't make a hair appointment before the big event, mine also has a torn pocket from somehow getting caught on the doorknob to my bedroom. Your husband or mother or children may see you in it and say, "You need a new robe." If you are like me, you have a newer, more presentable robe in your closet. But on those rare Saturday mornings when you have no place particular to go, this is the robe you want to wear. Like the robe, talking with these friends is instant rejuvenation. I feel loved and comforted and just like myself all at once. These friends can see me with no makeup, no hairdo, no pretenses. Just me. These are the girls who I can call and yell, " I am going to kill my husband, child , mother ..." I don't have to worry about them calling the police. They understand that I love the aforementioned family members. I just need to vent. Because we are such passionate beings, the people in our lives can make us crazy, raving lunatics. I just try to keep my lunacy under wraps, but it must come out at times or I will go mad. I rely on these friends to listen to my ravings without judgement and certainly without repeating them to everyone in town!
These friends may laugh. That's okay. I know I am a bit ridiculous. They may offer suggestions. These are girls who I value and respect, so they are allowed to make suggestions. Because the value and respect is mutual, I can take or not take their advice. If it turns out that they were right, I will call them back and say, "Oooh, how right you were. " They will be sad to have been right if I didn't take the advice. Happy to have helped if I did.
Just as I am instantly relaxed in the comfy robe, these friends are also the ones I want to talk with when I just want to gab. From "Can you believe what Nancy Pelosi said?" to "I am so excited, my azaleas are beginning to bloom." Talking with them can be an indulgent 30 minutes. I can just relax and "visit." We don't have to solve any of the world's problems or the serious family crises. It is like coming up for air.
When I am ready to have a more serious conversation, I am fortunate. I do not have to censor myself or be politically correct. They forgive my accidentally spoken insensitive remarks. They love that I think my children are God's most wonderful creation (or at least tolerate my gushing) and do not begrudge me my children's triumphs. They are happy for me and I am happy for them. I am proud for them when they have a successful coup at work or have an incredible new home or spelling champ. They are thrilled for me when I lose that last 10 pounds (or 15 as the case may be). These are the friendships I want my children, especially my daughter, to know about and look for. There will always be people ready to tear me apart. I need to hold on to those friends who see all of my warts, but love me despite them and share in my successes big and small.
These are also the women with whom I can discuss issues: healthcare, the existence of God, materialism in society today, the need for volunteers, marriage, prayer or lack of prayer, illness, death, life, parents, love, loss, being a good parent, being a bad parent, and the meaning of life.... Mutual respect allows for open, honest dialogue. They may play devil's advocate or allow me to have this enjoyable role as we try to decide where we stand in life. What value these friends add to my life.
Just as I reach for that old bathrobe when I am not feeling well, I feel warmth and comfort from these friends when things are not good. These are the people I talk to when I am not taking calls. They share my concerns. I may sometimes have to gather my strength to tell them what is happening. But just as they share in my joy, they feel my suffering.
I use the expression "old" because, in most cases, I have been friends with these people a long time. They, like my bathrobe, are broken in. These are the people who "knew me when" but stayed friends with me anyway. We may talk everyday or every other year, depending on where we are in our lives. We may have lost touch, but when we reconnect; after 15 minutes, it seems as if we spoke only last week rather than 15 years ago. If we are very lucky, we may come across a new "comfy, old friend." I think that as we get older, we get better at recognizing the qualities we value in friendship and learn to cherish these people earlier rather than later. These women are a blessing. I am glad to have them in my life. "Cheers to all of my "comfy, old friends." May we talk, soon. If not, have a great week (or month or year). You know I wish you the best."
