Perspective

You may have read my recent posts, wherein I whine about losing a friend over a conversation that never should have taken place. I, of course, have completely lost sight of what should be important. However, in keeping with our present cultural awareness, it has taken a forwarded e-mail to get me back on the right track.

I submit:

A mother asked President Bush,  "Why did my son have to die in Iraq?"
Another mother asked President Kennedy, "Why did my son have to die in Viet Nam?"
Another mother asked President Truman, "Why did my son have to die in Korea?
Another mother asked President F.D. Roosevelt, "Why did my son have to die at Iwo Jima?"
Another mother asked President W.  Wilson, "Why did my son have to die on the battlefield of France?"
Yet another mother asked President Lincoln, "Why did my son have to die at Gettysburg?"
And yet another mother asked President G. Washington, "Why did my son have to die near Valley Forge?"

Then long, long ago, a mother asked...
"Heavenly Father, why did my Son have to die on a cross outside of Jerusalem?"

The answers to all these are similar --"So  that others may have life and dwell in peace, happiness, and freedom."

So, I don't know which humbled me more: the reminder that this is the season of the Christ Child, or the reminder that we still have sons and daughters out there fighting for our rights. Fighting for our freedom.

Reprieve

Well, there is nothing like spending the day with a six-year-old and a two-year-old to put things into perspective. This is a good thing, by the way.

As you may know, I've been lamenting over my regrettable error in judgment, kicking myself and wondering if I even deserve to be allowed to have friends my own age, much less young and impressionable ones. But, off to Little Rock go I, with my husband and stepson as well.

You see, in a world where we are blessed to have so many people in our lives, coupled with the freedom to live wherever we darned well choose, celebrating the holidays becomes a month-long affair. (Translation: I make friends. I cherish friends. I hold on to friends. Friends move away to pursue careers and dreams that take them from living right next door to me. But, since these friendships are so precious, we keep them alive and well. Therefore we spend the month of December scheduling when we are going to get time to see each other.) Again, this is a good thing.

I have a friend named Meredith. Biologically I am an only child, yet some people hear me refer to my "sister". This is because I have Mer. She and I have been through thick and thin for about 12 years now, and I swear she is more like family than anything. So, Meredith is married to Scott. Scott and Mike have been friends since high school - much longer than 12 years. So, we have history with these fine folks, history that I sure as heck treasure with my whole heart. They moved away about 8 years ago. In that time, they have produced the two most wonderful little girls in the whole world. These girls are a major part of my heart, and I do my best not to miss a birthday or major event in their lives. This means lots of traveling both ways for us. And it is all worth it.

So, Saturday brings me getting up and going with my family for three hours to go see our darling friends. Keep in mind, I am still kicking myself for the crap of last week. But when I get to our destination, and from inside the house I hear SQUEALING of DELIGHT because we have pulled in the driveway, suddenly it all just melts away. My faux pas is put on hold for a while. I now become immersed in fanciful tales of Dora and Barbie and the 12 Princesses and calling Aunt JoJo on a cell phone that has no battery. (The two-year-old has Mer's old cell phone.. we pretend to call Scott's sister... you remember.. PRETENDING?)

We all open Christmas presents and eat homemade chili for lunch and spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner, along with amazing homemade bread, and we go visit a very "foo-foo" toy store, and then we go see a live nativity and have hot chocolate and cookies and do some shopping. We sing Christmas carols and the "ABCD Song" in the car on the way to the nativity and we count by two, three, five, ten, and one-halves (the fifteen-year-old started that one!) on the way back.

I get requested to sit "right here by me, TayHee" and "Trace, can you count to 100 by fives?" and "I want TayHee put my hairbow in." I get tears when I tell them I have to go home now, and am begged to make promises to return as soon as I can. They ask me to sing louder (these children love me, I assure you. Have you HEARD me sing?) and they ask me to pick them up. My finger on my right hand gets held by this blue-eyed, blonde-headed sprite who grins and giggles when I smile at her, while my left arm is hugged by the green-eyed, darker blond-headed princess who, somehow at six years old, knows me as well as I know myself.

These two precious darlings love me for who I am and forgive any transgressions I may have made. (As do their Mom and Dad.)

So we get to today, and no, he has not contacted me. I feel that my cherished friendship is somehow lost to me. I look to see if I've gotten any e-mail, but alas, there is no quote of the day. No humorous platitude. No "Hi Sunshine."

But, for a few short hours, I was granted a reprieve.

More Importantly...

So, I have this friend.
Very male.
Very amazing.

I have thought the world of him from almost day one. He smiled at me and I was hooked.
Not a crush.
Not a Joey-from-Friends "How YOU doin'?"

Okay, maybe a teensy-weensy crush, but dear God, let's not go there. (Although, despite my enlightenment of earlier this week, I still have the ability to know attractive when I see it. I'm not blind for goodness' sake!)

We have a wow, not-only-are-you-so-great-but-you-think-I'm-great-too kind of thing. Mutual respect. I immensely LIKE the guy.

Then I blew it. I told him everything I thought of him. After four freakin' years of keeping it to myself, I go and open my big mouth and out comes everything. I almost reverted it to the "I like you. Do you like me? Check this box if you do." scenario. Artists. Sheesh.

And the part about it is that I never INTENTIONALLY meant to do it. It was a one thing leads to another kind of thing. (Do not get me wrong - the conversation was very, very nice.)

For some reason I have this flaw that compels me to tell my friends exactly what I think of them and why I think they are so spiffy. (If I have ever referred to you as "spiffy", you are held in the highest esteem I can bestow.) So I come out and tell him.

For a smart girl, sometimes, I am not so smart.

So, now it is out there, this thing that for some reason is now an albatross instead of an enlightenment. Something that was to perhaps elevate our distant mutual respect to a sincere and true friendship, has now maybe ended everything. Now, why do I say that? I mean, he actually called me last night and told me it was all okay and to quit worrying. He said we were just fine. Nothing had ended.

But -

I come in this morning, all happy that I had my friend back, and that we were going to put the awkwardness behind us. So, I send him an e-mail. No reply. Okay, I get that.. he's VERY busy. But then I see him. He walks right by my desk. But somehow the smile that usually stops my heart (leave me alone - I already admitted that it MIGHT be a crush.) just looked sad. Like I'd let him down or something. Like I wasn't special anymore.

So, is it MY perception? Is he really okay with everything and I am just reading things into things? Or have I really lost that place in his eyes?

But, I am okay. This too shall pass, tomorrow is another day, et cetera.