Temporary? Insanity

I don’t know if this post is going to come off sounding sad, or funny – whether it’ll touch some people’s hearts or offend them to the core. I’ve just been reflecting a lot about friendship lately, and I really want to write about what’s been filling my head the past few days.

The blossoming friendship between Emma and my dear friend Angela’s little boy Dakota has been a source of both entertainment and introspection for me. At times they’re delighted with each other, giggling and bouncing and chasing each other while screaming at the top of their lungs. Other times they’re sobbing as if their poor little hearts are going to break, because a favourite toy has been snatched or because one finished their snack before the other and why oh why can’t they share? They alternate between hitting and hugging, giggling and yelling. Emma wakes up some mornings and goes looking around the house for “Kota”, sounding wobegone and forlorn. And then when he does come over to play, she yells at him and smacks him at the first opportunity.

It’s beyond understanding.

I got thinking about the friendships in my life and how understandable they are. And I came to realize just how rich in friendships I am right now. I once defined myself by my loneliness and feelings of isolation, and that definition simply doesn’t fit anymore.

Growing up, I was often morose over the lack of a best friend. This lack may be explained by my use of words like “morose.” I was a shy, mousy little thing…uncertain and aloof. I never got to experience the giggling camaraderie of best friendship. The TV shows and movies I watched often incorporated this ideal, as did the books I read. What was so abhorrently wrong with me that I didn’t have someone like that in my life? Again, I’m thinking the big words might have had something to do with it.

In elementary school, I was inducted into a girl gang. There were four of us and we were inseperable. For some reason that was never adequately explained, all the treats from my lunch were forfeit to the other girls. When we plamed games, I was “it”every, single, time. I helped them with their homework.

And I was grateful. That’s the sickening and sad part of it. I was so pathetically grateful to have friends that I’d go along with anything. They even came to my house and told me that I was doing too well in class and that I had to stop trying so hard and making them look bad or they wouldn’t be my friends any more. How is it that mere nine year old girls were so perceptive? How did they know they could get away with it?

That experience affected me for more years than I care to admit. It’s only recently that I’ve stopped letting leftover misery and bitterness from that time poison my life. I’ve realized that it doesn’t hurt those girls for me to be harbouring a grudge. It only hurts me.

And now, I am rich in friends. I’m always behind in my e-mailing and phoning and mailing because I love so many wonderful people who touch my life in a myriad of ways. There’s DD, Angela, Kate, Melissa, Beth, Jane, Jo, Tiffany, Nicole, Lisa and Jared, Mollie, Stephanie, Ron and Donna, Noel and Lora, Carol-Ann, Brandi and Dave, Suzanne, Joanne…and then there’s Lara, Amanda, Julie, and so many other lovely gals I’m in the process of getting to know through their blogs.

And that’s not even including family – most especially my Mom who is one of my greatest supports in life. I often brag about how lucky I am to have her, a mother I not only love, but like and respect as well.

And speaking of the mother-daughter friendship, I’m off to strengthen mine with my girls, who are stirring from their naps.

I’d like to say something superbly flowery to close off, but can only say to all of you reading this…

Thank You.