Periodically, I set up a meeting with a priest from my parish. Our visits can go either direction. Sometimes it’s in the realm of spiritual guidance, other times it’s just discussion. Frankly, he’s not that great at the former. He’s not certified in spiritual guidance (although I don’t even know the actual requirements for this, I’ve just been told that) but it’s pretty self explanatory when I leave our meetings either immensely discouraged or feeling on top of the world.
Today is a discouraged day. That’s the funny thing about priests. While they are wise men, they are not always right and they are not always nice.
Today, Father left me with a claim that I can’t seem to get behind. He told me “Good friends are a dime a dozen. You won’t remember anyone in your life today 20 years from now. Then none of this will actually matter.” And when I expressed sadness at the thought of that, he gave me a peculiar look and asked “Why?”
Why, Father? Because I’ve lived my life surrounded by imperfect people, but I still love them. Sometimes an excruciating amount. And while that can be attributed to my immense capability to love and forgive, I believe that the few and loveliest I’ve managed to keep in my life are worth loving through the impossible times. They are good and bring my joy. And I can not manage my life without them. I can not imagine not knowing them in 20 years. The idea of losing them so completely is devastating. Yes, some of them may drift and not come back, but is that any reason not to foster and keep them right now?
This led me to thinking about my weekend. One of my oldest friends is having a baby girl (literally today!) and a group of us got together to celebrate with her family. Here we are:
This group of young ladies have been together for years. We sat at the table and individually accounted how long we had known one another, and each of us varied, but all connected somewhere in the middle eventually. The shortest time was 7 years. And each time we get together, there is so much joy and laughter and healthy nostalgia. “Don’t be sad it’s over, be glad it happened” completely exemplified.
Don’t tell me that relationships like that are a dime a dozen. That any of our lives are not made better because we love each other and come together when it matters most despite coming from dozens of different phases in our lives. As mothers, sisters, classmates, it does not matter. Real friendship endures. And while it has had its imperfections, it is worth a hell of a lot.