Friends

That Little Voice

I’ve been fortunate during my lifetime to have many friends: close, distant, long term, current, male, female, loving, irritating, supportive, honest, sick, active, men, caring, needy, surprising, disappointing, spiritual, obscene, sane, funny, meditative, organized, females, cluttered, black, white, oriental, crazy, demanding, creative, bisexual, nerdy, argumentative, sexually actives, foreigners, virgins, natives, handicapped, athletic, smart, and not so bright.

As I have thought about the different characteristics I have been attracted to, I’ve wondered in what category they each would place me as a friend. No doubt I’d be in several of the boxes, if not all of them.

What trait I present to one friend I may be slower to expose to another. One may find me charming, while another may be offended by my crude humor but looks forward to my neverending supply of popcorn.

What fascinates me is my appreciation of each of these people, all different but all contributing to who I am today.

There was May Hightower who pushed my swing during recess during my first year in school. She was taller, older and stronger but was a classmate in my first- grade class. I don’t know if she ever advanced to a higher grade, but we laughed noisily together, and I treasured her willingness to play with me, never questioning why she was still in my class when she was 14.

Our family moved to a new town and a new state just days before I started the sixth grade, and Judy Pace immediately became my best friend, accepting and introducing me to her friends, who also befriended me.

This pattern has continued throughout my life, as I have moved from place to place to place, forming connections, bonding, making friends, losing touch with many of them, but retaining the memories of those shared experiences.

I remember my roommate the first semester at Oklahoma University. She taught me how to do the twist and made a dummy of a guy who broke up with me painting his face on a pillowcase and then painting brown liquid dripping off his head depicting what he would look like if I had ‘dumped’ on him.

She was funny, creative, and I don’t remember her name. Isn’t that sad? I would love to chat with this woman who grew up in Hartshorne, Oklahoma, wherever she is now.

These disjointed memories were kicked to my consciousness last week when I received a couple of messages from friends, I hadn’t talked with in 10 years or longer. I was touched as they recalled some of the highlights we accomplished and shared some 20 years ago. When they expressed appreciation for my contributions, it was clear to me, my exploits were joint efforts made by the actions, interests, and energy of each of us.

What friends do is done in togetherness, not isolation. We ‘do’ along with others. We share and that’s how things get done. The skills, expertise, collaborations, and laughter cement relationships that make friendships.

I’m lucky to have all these named and unnamed people who have contributed to my rich life as friends.

Thanks to all of you.