surface friends

Friendships take on several forms. There are those that we can have a good time with, though things generally stay fairly amiable; we just wouldn't think of delving into our most profound and vulnerable emotions with them.

Then we have those that are here for us; anytime, anyplace. Willing to lend a hand, an ear, a shoulder to cry on. Without them, I'd be completely lost.

Throughout the last few months, we've really learned who are friends are and these roles have quite clearly been redrawn. Several times. Friends with whom I have never had much in common are now coming out of the woodwork and are presenting themselves as kind, thoughtful and compassionate; while some friends with whom I've shared my deepest and most intimate details with in the past seem completely distant. It could be a matter of time and place. Who knows?

What's been most striking to me, however, has been the friends that on first look seem to only be surface friends. Those that are calling, not seemingly to check up on me, but to share a moment with. It could be coffee, a beer, music, whatever.

The loss of my son is never mentioned in any of these conversations, but conversation generally is quite flowing. And while temporarily, my mind wanders, rather than wonders. And here's the thing, one of these people, in particular, has been calling me - out of the blue - quite randomly: sometimes just to say hello. sometimes to play a song that they are hearing on the car stereo, wanting to share it with me. sometimes to tell me about a particularly brilliant meal that they've had, thinking that at somepoint, I may very much enjoy this. While we're not broaching the devestating feelings that I am having - he's one of the only people who is constantly checking in with me.

This is his way of dealing. And I am so incredibly grateful that he's been here for me, in whatever way he can help me.