To A Long Lost Friend

"A friend is for a reason, a season or a lifetime".  I have had many friends throughout my life and for some I do wonder what happened to them.  Here is a letter to someone who was a great friend to me when I was a uni student.

Dear Flis,

Sometimes I find myself wondering what happened to you.  I always felt bad about the last time we spoke.  Do you remember?  You were walking down the hill from the station and you saw me walking across the road to get into my car.  You walked over and said "Hello".  I smiled and made pleasantries, but I told you I desperately had to go.  You looked upset and walked off.  The thing was I really did have to go, I had a Dr's appointment and I couldn't be late.  Perhaps I should have told you that.  I never heard from you again, but I was in a bad place at the time and I didn't tell you because of all the bad places you had been.

I always enjoyed our friendship, you went out of your way to make me feel welcome and I was happy spending time with you.  We did a lot together and spent many Sunday evenings drinking coffee and talking for what felt like hours.  However I remember at some point things changed.  I'm unsure of the specifics, I didn't ask about the history, I just knew you were struggling.

You ended up in hospital.  I came to see you with Cathy and we arranged to go for a walk a few kilometres down the road.  On our walk we found a small antique shop and we walked in and looked around.  In there you purchased 3 little murrina glass hearts and you gave one to each of us and told us it was to remember the day.  To be honest that was a tough day for me, it was confronting and you wanted to talk about your treatment and that was difficult for me.  I wanted to help you but I felt so helpless.

Of course you did get better, you went back home and I often came to your granny flat where you would cook dinner and we would watch movies together.  Extremely kind and thoughtful you always were, I truly appreciated our friendship and I'm sorry we have lost touch.  Things took a turn for me and it was ugly.  I was afraid to upset you with my stuff as I thought you were still fragile.

I hope you are well, happy and content and that perhaps you have met a wonderful man who treats you with abundant kindness, the way you treated everyone.  I remember we talked often of our future husbands.  I met mine and he is everything I wanted and more, and I am now in the best place I have ever been.

Take Care

The Secret Club I Don't Belong To

Small gatherings at desks, phones being exchanged, oohing and ahhing, these are the members of the mother's club.  The secret club at work where I am the only one not a member.  It doesn't bother me that I don't belong, except for the 1% of the time when it does.  I know this sounds like I am about to pour my heart out with a long and painful infertility journey, but there is no story to tell.  It is simply a case that on those rare days it hurts because I feel like I am back at high school being the outsider sitting alone watching packs of girls in throngs of laughter.

It's not that they don't include me, they try, sometimes, but how can I relate?  There are two older women both of whom have recently become grandmothers and they share with the younger mothers the outfits they buy and the videos sent to them of the baby smiling or crawling or making funny noises.  No one shows me.  It's not deliberate, but they gravitate towards other mothers for validation.  I understand and I know I can't provide that.

I listen, I'm good at that.  Every day I listen to their stories about the children and I laugh, but I have nothing to add.  When talk turns to husbands I can hold the office like a grand master story teller, but with children I smile and nod.  I used to show a bit more interest but my total lack of understanding of all things children, baby and pregnancy made it hard.  It's another language, that I don't speak and everyday at some point they switch to their native tongue and I am left smiling.

Sometimes we go to the pub for lunch on Friday's.  One Friday sticks out in my mind.  The entire hour was spent sharing labour and birth stories.  I laughed, I cringed, but I didn't speak.  What could I say?  I left that lunch early, I wanted to be along for a few minutes and remind myself of all the clubs I do belong to.  Even though high school is far behind sometimes those painful memories creep up on me.  But it's ok now because I can hang out with members of the clubs I do belong to, and when I get home I can cuddle into my husband and my boys, my favourite club of them all.