I’ve been sipping my tea on this topic for quite some time, but it is coming up more often than I would like to admit the closer I get to moving. Everyone has friends that you were once so close to you couldn’t see any part of your life happening with out them, then you half way blink and be damned if Life didn’t just happen without them! And hey, maybe you are like me left wondering exactly…why? I kind of want to get into a bit of a back story, but then again, for fear of legit rage over acknowledging how things got this far, I don’t. Yet…here I am still typing so I guess we are about to get into this shit.
What I am talking about is what was going on a 15+ year friendship at the time. Here we all are, hitting major milestones, graduating from college, starting careers, starting families, starting master’s programs, buying cars, and houses and cheering each other along every step of the way, so I thought. So, I really thought, until one day I realized there was one voice no longer really cheering in my corner, as a matter of fact, outside of an occasional need for minor financial assistance here and there I hadn’t really heard from them at all. It was odd no doubt, but initially I thought, we all do have so much going on, big moves on the horizon, demanding jobs at times (mine in particular) so I started to believe that maybe I wasn’t as available as I once was. FALSE, but I’ll get to that shit in a minute.
So I began to back track, trying to figure out where things got grey and I was taken back to my wedding, YUP, I smile because I still look back on that day as legitimately one of the most joyous, easy going, blissfully fun days of my life. However, my bridal party didn’t necessarily have the exact same recap I did when dealing with some of the events they threw for me leading up to the nuptials. And really, had I not started to inquire some time afterward, I may have never known. They were so great in the sense that they didn’t want to bother me with any of the shenanigans that were going on behind the scenes that I could still 8 years later not know a thing. But I can’t un-know these things now, and there was some behavior from my friend that just wasn’t indicative of someone who you legitimately loved and thought would have been really supportive of such a big step in life and the occasion. But LAWD, apparently that old saying IS true, weddings and funerals bring out the worst in those you thought were your best.
So I had to soul search for a moment. Was there something I did that led to this? I always was the one that reached out, called no matter what shift I was working just to see how things were going, always made the effort to get together for birthdays, extended the invitation for family cookouts, I tried to support all of the high moments, and even more so tried to support the low because to me that’s what a friend did. Even when I didn’t have a ton of time, I made the time. So I decided to make more time, maybe I was making this too much about me and I was missing something critical that was going on. And yes, there was a lot going on because…well… adulting sucks and every now and then we need a friend to listen and be there for the curve balls that it throws you, and I dove in to try and be there for all of the pivotal moments. Until I was facing a pivotal moment of my own, we were expecting and after an ectopic pregnancy I was excited but terrified, and I just wanted to hop in the conversations and say Hey! I have some news, I have some angst and I have some legit fears, and….well…I never even told them first like I seriously wanted too because It hit me like a ton of bricks, I was not a concern. Isn’t that a wild realization?! I couldn’t even remember the last time I had received a phone call just to see how I was doing, and to make sure I wasn’t completely losing it, the millennial in me scrolled through my call log and time after time I was the outgoing call, they were never the incoming. Why was I expecting someone to be the same kind of friend that I was, and actually the kind of friend that they were many years before, when it was clear that the dynamic changed, my value in this equation changed and I was a little late to want to acknowledge it and see it for what it was.
Now I know what you are thinking, that I decided to have some heart to heart deep ass conversation about my feelings and how I wanted more out of this friendship than what I was getting because it was worth fighting for. Nah, like on so many levels I was muted for real. I didn’t even address it, you know what I did, I kept calling, kept listening, kept being the same friend I had been, and like a lot of people still holding on to a failed relationship for the sake of what their family might think, or their other friends might think, I was holding on to this friendship because I had invested so much time, literally still had so much love for them and their family that I was willing to give still way more of myself than I was getting in return. And in case you were wondering, they found out about my pregnancy after we made it past the 13 weeks, on Facebook, because out of those 13 weeks I didn’t even get asked one personal question, not even a “how was your day?”.
Things got complicated after that, conversations got brief, our baby shower came and went, they came but were barely involved…I delivered a healthy baby girl and they didn’t even come to see us. One of my best friends since I was 12 years old didn’t even come to see me and I almost let myself feel a kind of way about it, but then our best friend’s grandmother passed away, suddenly, and when I say it hit hard. IT.HIT.HARD. She loved us all like we were her own, and had, literally since we were tweens, she never treated either one of us any different than she did her own granddaughter who had been our best friend forever. Nana was there for everything, our birthdays, recitals, graduations (high school and College) she took us to lunch, brunch, and sometimes just out for the sake of being out because that’s what grandmothers do. I never wanted to have to make that call, I never wanted to hear Nana passed away, let alone say it, but I didn’t want our best friend to have to say it again, so I picked up my phone. I remember this shit like it was yesterday, because I had to sit down, I was waiting for them to answer the phone, and they didn’t. I called again and they answered, a little rushed and not even a Hello, it was “I’m at work, I’ll call you on my lunch…”I had to blurt it out to get a word in, “Nana passed away I am on my way over to her house, she is going to need us”, “I’ll call you back” but they didn’t. I didn’t hear from them that day or the next. I went to be with my friend and her family because that is where I needed to be, I knew what she meant to me, and unequivocally knew what she was as the matriarch of their family and how devastating of an impact this was going to have on them, my extended family, and I was heartbroken over the fact that there wasn’t much I could do to help take this pain away. This was October of 2012 and till this day I don’t know if they ever picked up the phone and actually called to give condolences, hell even called to see if there was anything they could do to help them through this grief. And I don’t bring it up, because even in 2019 it is still hard for my best friend to talk about the loss of Nana, but when they didn’t show up to the funeral AFTER I made sure they had all of the information, for the woman who had done so much for us both, THAT was my breaking point. And no, for a while, I didn’t call.
It wasn’t until my oldest daughter was about 8 months old, that I even got a physical phone call from them, and that was because they had a loss of a parent. Of course, like any person would, I was there, because that was a hard moment, a low moment, and no one should ever have to maneuver that alone. They did, after the funeral and some time passed, come and see my oldest for the first time, and what I now know will likely be the last, because see, I haven’t seen them since. I still called a little while after that, to check in and after the loss of another vital family member of theirs and I made sure to try to keep up with them, but one day I decided to see if they would reach out and keep up with me, I had a lot going on as well and well, its July of 2019, I haven’t seen or physically spoken to them since 2013. I’ve texted for birthdays and some holidays, but the last was October 2017, and I barely got a response back and haven’t heard anything since.
To answer the question that I have gotten from a lot of people, a lot of other friends and some family over the past couple of months, I don’t know what she thinks of me moving to Germany or how she is going to handle having a “friend so far away”, because I lost that friend years ago, and not for lack of trying, and not because I didn’t love her, but because I simply decided not to pick up the phone and call, and not making one phone call turned into 6 years of nothing. After all of that, I’ve said it, 6 years of nothing and I would be lying if I said it didn’t still hurt a smidge. I would be lying if I said I didn’t care at all that our friendship to them wasn’t worth even a phone call back. So I wont lie, but I have learned something valuable about friendships, cherish the ones you still have, and invest in them and hopefully they continue to invest in you too, good ones are really hard to find, and even harder to sustain. And I know friendships have ebb and flows right, and it may not always be what it once was and I am ok with that. I even have some that we were once super close and even though things have changed because life took us in different directions, we do still at least communicate, we haven’t written each other off and keep in touch when we can and for that and those friendships still, I am thankful. I have been utterly blessed to still have many that I’ve gained and maintained along the way.
I just look back at how crushed and defeated she was in the early weeks of this school year, and how confident and accomplished she is at the end. Deep down I know there is a possibility that we could face similar challenges at her new school, in a new country, with a new language, however I am confident that together we have developed some tools to help her articulate her needs and enough patience and understanding to help her get those needs addressed. I can advocate for her better now than I ever could before and her improvements have helped me push to make sure that everyone is on her same page as we move forward. I want her to continue to feel as if she conquered each day like a Boss, and to never have her cry in frustration about feeling “powerless” because she didn’t have the ability to hone in on her own sensory needs. I know how frustrating life can be as an adult and I have strived to handle it to the best of my ability, but can you imagine having those same frustrations as your 6 year old self, not knowing what you know now? I can, and I can assure you, even without Sensory P.D., I wouldn’t have handled half of my challenges as well as my oldest has and she is powering through this diagnosis like a “G”.
I am putting this out there because I am now condensing 8 almost 9 years of stuff and having to identify necessity vs storage; what stays, what is sold and what is donated. So here is my question, if you had to sum up what makes your house (dwelling) a home, what would that be? For my oldest it was the polka dots on her wall and her hat display behind her door (forget her whole family or whatever). For my husband, its family (smart answer) but also, its his little comforts, like the Tempur-Pedic pillow which goes with him everywhere, LL Bean slippers perfectly worn on one side ready for his feet by the bedside, and for me, other than my family, I am still trying to figure that out. What really makes my house a home anywhere in the world? I am sure this first long-term tour will further identify exactly what that means, but so far, what I do know for sure is even without this house at least with my family I will always be at home.
So this past Mother’s day was a trial for me, an adjustment of sorts with this new normal after the loss of my AbFab Grandmother (Absolutely Fabulous…if you didn’t catch it the first time) I didn’t post my usual tributes, I didn’t do much that day at all. I did enjoy some much needed me time via an indulgent bath using my gift of free Time and Bath salts from my husband and children, but it was nothing like how I’ve spent the past decades worth of mother’s days. I was missing my grandmother something terrible, and basically, my grief has so many layers that I’ve literally lost count. A part of me just didn’t know what to do, I did still get her a card though. She LOVED cards, the more colorful the better, she would line them up in the center of her dining room table along with her flowers for weeks (you read that right…WEEKS) after Mother’s Day was over. So, I placed her card next to her Urn on my mantel and quietly let her know just how much she is missed and went about my day as best I could.
I immediately shut up, I mean I shut the hell up. In an instant the adult on the outside of me was shattered and the child deep inside of me was crushed. I figured out what she was trying to do, she wanted to send her grandmother a note to heaven attached to a balloon, but she didn’t want to ask for help (popping several balloons trying to tie them), because in her own way she just wanted to get a private, very real message to her best friend, and the thought of what that had to mean to her literally broke me. I know what it’s like to miss her, and I had her for well over 30 years, and here was this 6 year old just wanting a Popsicle on the porch swing with her G.G. again! What do you say to that, what can you even do? I kept running this over and over in my mind, do I tell her I found this note? Do I show her strength and not get emotional about her needing her G.G.? Should I let her see how destroyed with grief I am about it? And not simply because I miss her, but because I know she misses the simple moments doing what they loved to do. I grieve the reality that she won’t get the 30+ years I had with her, the countless snowballs, the storytelling’s, the weekends at her house, the hours of playing on the swing set while she watched from afar, the cookouts, the family newsletters, I grieve it all and I’m not ashamed to say I still cry about it.
We didn’t have a conversation about it, it wasn’t necessary at that time, but the relief on her face told me everything I needed to know, she hugged me, ate a Popsicle and smiled the entire time. I am blessed to have such an empathetic, loving little being wrapped up into this 6 year old God saw fit for me to mother, she teaches me something new about life every day. And she is blessed to at least still have a great grandmother here on earth that she still shares an incredible bond with. Something most of us never got the chance to say or experience, she will grow up remembering she was loved and cared for by both of her great grandmothers, they stepped in and made sure she was taken care of when her father and I had to work the craziest of hours, overnight, during the day, on the weekends, she never had to worry about how her needs would be met, and we never had to worry either. She was spoiled in the best way, having received so much love and is continuing to make so many memories with the one she has left. Just wondering, if anyone has an answer, by the time you got to what felt like the end of the tunnel with grief, how many layers do you think you peeled back? I am interested to know, you know, just asking for a friend.
I have a bit to unpack today. First, this theory that work-life balance is a realistic concept, and Second, the validity of Self-Care and what that actually means. I have spent over a decade in search of just how to balance work-life. Seriously flipping through article after article, talking with friends who appear to have a much better grip on life than I did at the time, playing 21 questions with whomever would entertain my thoughts on the subject and here is what I have found…Balance is not the right word. Suggesting that work and life can somehow fit on a weighted scale and come out weighing the same and seemingly “balance” is a fallacy. What I have come to realize throughout the years of chasing this idea of balance, that work (my work in particular) isn’t as consistent as some of the friends I polled for their ideas on the balancing act. That is a major factor and could become an entirely different piece when you really delve into the difficulties of time management and scheduling in reference to those of us whose careers are in public service. Nevertheless, it is something worth addressing.
you will see that on a good day, work would be the “Greens” of my day. It would eat up a lot of undivided time and attention, and that is with getting off at my designated time, which again was not the norm. At the close of my day you see that my Plate already is not balanced, and in life there isn’t much you can do about that, so I had to abandon the theory of balance and actually manage the time I had left to the best of my ability.
Baltimore has always had its charm and quirks, I wish people would just take the time to delve in deeper, look through the vacant lots and crime, and see that we have a lot to offer. One such offer is a plethora of Museums that boast fascinating rotating exhibits. Another is Whiskey. Yes, that’s right folks we have Whiskey Companies that distill right here in the city. One of our favorite drinks that we sampled at this delightful event was made with 
This event ended up being one that I would gladly make an annual outing and it was for a great cause. There is nothing I enjoy more than giving back to support the Arts…while drinking, of course.