Friday, November 18

Thankful for my crappy friends.

Seems ironic, no?  When I found myself at the bottom a few years ago, I lost most of my friends.  Seriously.  Who wants to hang around with someone barely hanging on to life?  Someone who can't muster up enough to return phone calls or actually invest in others.  Someone who has absolutely nothing to give.  No one, but those who are legally obligated to hang around.

Except a few.  A handful, and I did my best to lose them as well.  They wouldn't let me go.  They wouldn't let me shake them off.  I would call to cancel on them with some lame excuse, and they would say no.  They would find babysitters for my children, an empty house for us to hang out, a bottle of wine for us to share.  It was in those moments, we grew together.  We cried.  We got mad at ourselves, our sin, each other.  I learned to heal.  Over time it became less about me and my issues, and more about each individual and her individual issues. I found the space to give back to life, to give to something other than my own family.  We dared to dip our toes into the deep end of the pool, and what we found there, we grabbed tightly and embraced fully. We called our sometimes monthly, sometimes weekly, times together "Crap Night."  We hashed out our so-called crap with each other.  These ladies became my crappy friends.  I love them ever so much.

A few weeks ago, when we lost our Mamaw, it was these very friends who called to check in on me, who tried to rearrange their schedules so that I wouldn't have to do both the visitation and the funeral by myself with the kiddos (John was a pall bearer and couldn't sit with us).  They texted and called and emailed and prayed.  They couldn't be with me physically, but they were with me.  They brought me a plant to put in my yard in memory of  Mamaw, and not just any plant, but my absolute FAVORITE plant at the park where I walk and run.  The place where I hashed out so much doing laps with the comfort of a crappy friend or two.  The place where I fought and continue to fight my so-called demons wholeheartedly.

And tonight, as my text alert went off a few hours ago, and I truth-texted a crappy friend in the midst of hurt, sadness, and anger--I remembered just how blessed we are to have each other.  Some women spend an entire lifetime trying to find just one friend to relate to on this level, and there are five of us that are completely devoted to spurring one another on in both truth and love.  I can trust them with ANYTHING.  It isn't perfect, but we are honest with each other and try to keep short accounts.  And I am ever so thankful for them.   We meet once a week now and take turns deciding what we do each week.  It is the highlight of my week--crap night with my crappy friends!

1 comment:

P said...

Can I come? I'm a crappy friend too. Best best best post ever award for you! Hip hip hooray for crappy friends, mine are also too crappy themselves and need more crappy friends to help us!