friend
/I lost a few friends after George died. Well, really, they were in the process of being lost during the five weeks that he was in the process of dying and that I was in the process of changing into something different than before. For those weeks and the ones immediately following, phone calls went unanswered and emails went unreturned. Our previously close relationships changed into something else, something not anything anymore. I was taken by surprise by the change but I probably shouldn’t have been.
...
Melissa made the drive to the hospital from across town after work. She brought a board game and we played scrabble on my hospital bed. Our laughter temporarily filled the space that the thwump-thwump of his heart tones normally took up in our room. Nurses, who were as constant as my shadow, mostly left us alone and for an entire hour I felt almost normal again.
...
I can look back at my life and divide it into discrete periods, each one associated with a different version of myself. Each Brianna, similar in some ways and completely unique in others, was surrounded by a relatively distinctive set of friends. Adolescent Brianna and Teenage Brianna had some friends in common but they mostly faded away once University Brianna made her first appearance. University Brianna evolved into Adult Brianna and the story repeated itself; friends came and went. Throughout all the versions of myself over the years there have been a few friends that have remained steady: veins of marble in the limestone of my life. For the most part though, friends have come and gone with time.
...
The necklace that often hangs from my neck is a secret between Jennie and me. A delicate gold band imbedded with a single diamond, a gift she gave me immediately after George died. “Your laughing star in the night sky,” she told me. “Remember the Little Prince.”
...
As I’ve changed -or maybe as my friends have changed- so have our relationships. Sometimes we’ve stayed buoyed to each other and sometimes we’ve floated away, each pushed along by the tide of our own lives. The friendships that have stuck and have followed me through my life despite all the changes, both theirs and mine, are the ones in which we’ve continued to find new places in our lives for each other.
...
Natalie and Marc flew out for a long weekend after he died. We went to the beach and to a karaoke bar. We stayed up too late and drank too much red wine. They ate Korean fried chicken with us even though they did not eat meat. They listened. We talked and cried. They remember our son…still.
...
I am not the same as I was four years ago and neither are all of my friendships. There is no more animosity for the ones who could not stay but there is so much gratitude for the ones that did.
Tell me about the people who stayed, the people who were there to abide with you. Tell me about your Melissas, Jennies, Natalies, and Marcs. I want to hear about the good hearts and the souls who have suffered right along with you. Tell me about the ones who have continued to love you even as you’ve changed.