Monday, June 29, 2009

Diane



I wasn't going to devote a blog to Diane. I wasn't going to share how I feel with anyone. After all, these are my feelngs, and if I choose to keep them to myself, who's going to stop me? Who's going to care?

She would. She does. She cares. That's her, always caring, for everyone. She is here right now with me, I don't care what anyone says. I can only touch her with my thoughts and emotions, but she is here. And she wants me to not only get this out, but to share it. I don't know why, and I don't know what to say, exactly.

I feel that it has been communicated to her already, all the emotion, and the history and the gratitude and the feelings of inadequacy in reciprocation for all she's done for me and Andrew and then the acceptance of the need for me to RECEIVE and then the thanks for that, as well. I need to absorb her friendship into my life and carry on. Take all those lessons about family and friendship and giving and receiving and use them as I go about my business. Kindness and caring, all of that. Those are heavy lessons to rely on when the going gets tough, and she reinforced all of those for me. So I'm lucky to have them, and to have had her in my life.

I am reminded that it is the time we spent together that was the most special, and that we made that time, even though we were both busy and preoccupied, and that the time you make for others is really time you make for yourself. And if we hadn't made that time for each other, we wouldn't have had the time for ourselves. So it is a gift, the time, to relax, to think, to feel, to share the thoughts and feelings, and to experience the world together. It's so much better than alone. And if you are lucky enough to find someone who clicks with you and streams along on the same wavelength, or at least the one traveling close enough to you to collide happily from time to time, then you need to treasure that time together. And when the tears are more cleansing than sad, you know you can go on.

I could list specifics and try to count endless Cobb salads at Lilly's Place, which no longer exists, and all the nights when I was at Cal State after work and my son was with her, and the weeks when I was at Spalding and my son was with her, and all the family events where I was invited and did attend, and the long phone calls, and the topics of discussion (mainly men, for each of us, but that subject is fodder for many conversations), and the shopping trips and birthdays and Christmases and Thanksgivings where I would normally be sitting alone, but was instead included in this boisterous family atmosphere and embraced as someone worth knowing and wanting to have around.

But if I listed all that, it would take forever, and seriously, I need to get on with my life and stop hiding in the corner, because I am now armed with the knowledge that I don't have to do everything on my own, and I can count on some people, because there are some trustworthy humans in this world. You just have to know how to recognize them, and when you see them, you need to hold onto them, because you never know how long they will be here to spend time with you. And when they call and ask you to lunch, your answer really should be yes, because you are robbing yourself of a lot more than calories if you decline.

2 comments:

  1. So sorry to hear about your friend's death, but grateful that you cared enough to share her wonder with us. Thanks for posting it--I'm sure she's glad you did too.

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  2. Thank you! I hope she knows how much she meant to all of us.

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