Time and Time Again

Recently blessed by the visit of an old friend (old, not because he is old, but old because we've been friends for more years than we've not been friends) got me thinking about the longevity and constancy in our relationships and what makes some endure and others fade.   As we go thru life, we are bound to change.  The people that resonate with us in one phase, certainly cannot be expected to resonate with us in another as we morph into a new self.   As anyone will say, you must shed the old in order to fully embrace the new.  But what about the old that becomes part of the new?

In those younger years and our lack of experience or limited frame of reference, we were very focused on things like loyalty and betrayal and a false sense of what that meant.  Back then, it was based on a sense of sameness, of fitting in and having things in common.   Like attracted like.  We had no real depth yet - no way of connecting on any other level except for shared interests and superficial similarities.  When those changed, as is inevitable once people begin to grow, the relationships based solely on those factors did, too.   Except for the ones that didn't.   There were the rare few that survived.  Not because we had more in common or they were cooler or more like us, but because they loved and accepted us, exactly for who were.  Not just that in moment, but across all moments.   When we stopped being who we were when they met them, they did not cry "Betrayed! Betrayed!" but looked at us kindly with concern and asked "who do you want to be?  How I can best help you be the new you that you want to be?" - and they did it.  Each time.  Over and over again.  Without judgement.

They become our confidants, our accomplices, our solid, safe place from which to launch our latest crazy idea.   They cheered with us when we won, they cried with us when we lost, they wisely kept their mouth shut when we embarrassed ourselves, and wordlessly helped us clean up the mess and pick up the pieces of our shattered egos and self-esteem and somehow made us feel whole again, time and time again.   They held us up, even when they didn't understand us or agree with us, because it's who they are and what they do.   I often wonder, without them, would I ever ever been able to get back up? Fortunately, I never have to find out.   They are waiting, their hand outstretched to help me up again no matter how big of a mess I've landed myself in, typically of my own doing.  They go out of their way to do something that is meaningful to you, not to them, because it brings you happiness.

The older I get, the more changes I experience and the more selves I become/re-invent, I am more profoundly amazed at how some those friends are still here.    Our lives have taken such different turns and we are profoundly different people yet, somehow there they still are.   It hasn't been an easy ride for many of them.   There have been times that we still cringe at the dark days and laugh, with tears in our eyes, at all the different roles we've played in the years.  I would've left myself years ago if I were them, but no.   I know I can count on them no matter how many times I screw up.   And I feel blessed and honored.   When I ask, joking (and not so joking) why they still stick around I got a simple, but astonishing answer:  "Because you've always done that for me."  Really?  I feel like I don't do enough sometimes and I am humbled and even more committed to show up and be a better friend.   But I guess that's what that whole loyalty thing is about.   I'd move mountains,  if I could,  to protect these guys and help them find joy and honor, respect and support the current self they've chosen to be.   But it's a lot easier for me - they're pretty wonderful!  Me, well, let's just say they've got their challenges dealing with me on occasion.

I have a friend who has known me since I was 18.   I am no longer that girl and can barely remember her and not really sure I want to, but he does.   And he still sees her in me as well as who I've become and accepts the entire spectrum.  His eyes still shine with the loyalty to his friend from so long ago and all of the friends in the new selves I created thru the years that he also stood by.   And when he tells me stories of those days, some of the little things he remembers, which I've long since forgotten, are such small things in my mind, but are treasured memories in his.   Similarly, his memory is equally blank when I remember small kindnesses he did that meant so much to me.   I guess that's why we are still friends.    We remember only the good of each other.  We don't count the good things we've done because we've forgotten our own good deeds and typically can only remember our own failures.   They have forgotten our failures or don't see them as such.  There is no keeping score.

Today I look at the man that he's become and I am so proud and honored to be so blessed to have such a friend.   We talked a little about why we were still here, amazed that the core of our friendship has never really changed despite how far we'd come from those teenagers, just embarking on the world, not knowing a damn thing about what we were doing.    We were so clueless!   And we came to this realization:   The original trust, of unconditional support, naive though it must have been at the time was not unfounded - it was still there.  It was never broken, it was never betrayed.   No matter how far we may have drifted apart over the years at different points,  we knew that we would always show up.    You just don't find that every day.    As many of the relationships in my life have come and gone in the years, I am remarkably blessed by the number of friendships I have that are just like this one.   Many of them have been there for decades, some are fairly new but no less committed.

There is no hiding from them.  They know all the secrets, they know where all the bodies are buried (hell, they probably helped bury some) and know how ugly I can get - despite that, they still show up.   They've done some pretty amazing things:  They drive hours and take days off of work to visit with my mother because it's important to me.   They even get her drinking margaritas and tell her embarrassing stories about me from years ago that make me want to crawl under the couch and hide while she roars with laughter and their eyes twinkle with sheer evil.  They make up stories, just to make me laugh when I am having a hard day.  They call my bluff and tell me I'm full of it when I am - and then laugh at me.  They refuse to let me be dishonest with them or myself.  And they are kind (brutally so, when I'm being obtuse that I can't hear it any other way - they've been known to shout when I'm being particularly deaf).  They push me to follow my dreams and encourage me when I start to doubt.   They do things for me, because it's important to me and for no other reason.  Sometimes, just because I asked them to - no questions asked.  No explanations needed.  Pure and unconditional support.  I am humbled and honored and think, wow, am I lucky to have friends like this.

Now we do not connect because we are the same.  Or even like the same things.  Or live the same kind of life.  In fact, in many cases, we are so different that it's astounding that we are friends at all.   Except for that one thing that remains unchanged.   That loyalty, that unconditional trust and acceptance, regardless of who we are or who we will continue to become.    That's what differentiates them from the others.

And it makes me want to show up for them, too.....every time.