Yesterday my tone here was rather whiny and angry (so not my goal for this blog since there is just way enough of that in real life), so I thought I’d try to change it today to something a little more upbeat. How does sappy and sobby sound?
Seriously, and hopefully without getting too mired in the maudlin, I just want to share how grateful I am for a couple of things. First, thank you to those of you who read my blog, and a special thank you to those who take the time to comment (or email, since my comment feature is apparently persnickety). It’s always nice to meet supportive, interested, and interesting people, even if it is only a virtual thing, and I just want you to know that I do appreciate it.
Friends. I can’t say enough about good friends and what a difference they make in my life.
There are two people in my life who I consider my best friends — friends in the truest sense. You know the kind. No matter what you say or how you feel, they get you. They get you and they don’t judge you. They understand you and accept you and you understand them and accept them and so you can talk about anything and you can talk forever. Or until the Pizza Place locks the doors and starts vacuuming right by the table you’ve been occupying for the past three hours.
Confession time: I broke the no processed flour rule last night so that I could eat pizza at the best Pizza Place around with one of my best friends, who I rarely see. Shoot me, I don’t care. It was worth it.
I’m very grateful for this friend, who I’ll tell you more about in a minute. I’m equally grateful that I have a husband and my friend has a wife who don’t mind and don’t feel threatened by the fact that we were out together all evening. I soooo needed that time, and it has helped my outlook on life tremendously. I hoped it helped him as well. I worry that it didn’t.
I met M~ (who’s first name, incidentally, is the same as Husband’s ex-step-father’s last name, so it was the last name Husband used for the first half of his life, until he decided to use Sperm Donor’s last name, which he probably now regrets; but with four kids we’re just not switching). Where was I? Oh, yes: I met M~ about 12 years ago when we worked together at a local newspaper. He was a photographer and I was a reporter (my pre-mommy life vacillated between teaching and writing) and we covered quite a lot together. We were both going through rough spots in our lives and we helped each other through it. Driving to and from various assignments gave us lots of time to talk, and seeing my life flash before my eyes so many times as a passenger in his van probably got me talking more than I would have otherwise. It’s ok, he felt the same way as a passenger in my little Escort GT.
Between the tough times, the near-death driving experiences, and shared work-related experiences (like interviewing Henry Winkler, and getting in big trouble for not being available to cover the senator’s wife, who dropped into town unannounced for lunch at a local eatery and some unabashed campaigning) we really bonded. There were some in the office who called us Lois and Clark (until they remembered the photographer was actually named Jimmy). Since those days life has kept us busy, and apart, in our separate spheres, as I left the workforce to be a stay-at-home mom and he has gone on to be the award-winning, chief photographer at one of the local, major dailies.
My life is all changing diapers, homeschooling kids, and trying to maintain peace and order. His life is scanners and cell phones, adult children and grandchildren, and trips to California to hang with and photograph John Legend before, during and after the Grammy’s. And I know what you’re thinking — journalists, ambulance chasing lawyers, they’re all about the same. Trust me, that is so not him. He has a great, big, heart.
I’m grateful for the time we had last night to reminisce, catch up, and, once again, lean on each other a bit. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It’s always been odd to me that so many people don’t get how you can have a very close but platonic relationship with someone of the opposite gender.
M~ got me laughing about the whole Tank Boy being autistic flap, and he reminded me of all of the things in my life for which I should be grateful. One of the biggies is my wonderful Husband. When we decided to get married, M~ was the first in line to break Husband’s legs should he turn out to be a loser (and, oddly enough, there was quite a line; including the very elderly man who officiated at our wedding — you just don’t expect him to end the whole thing by gently patting your brand new husband on the shoulder and saying, with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face, “You take very good care of her and treat her well, or I will hunt you down and break your knees.”) Luckily Husband is not a loser and his kneecaps are still intact, and M~ now sees why I married him.
I’m very proud of M~ and all that he has accomplished over the past decade, both personally and professionally. He is a truly great person, and no matter where he goes from here, he will always be a truly great person. I’ve never met a person who didn’t like him, and I’ve never met a Quickie Mart attendant who wouldn’t give him (and me, if I were along) a free Diet Coke.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.