The complicated beauty of friendships

I know that a lot of folks associate the holidays with family -- and don't get me wrong: I do too! -- but more than family, I associate Thanksgiving with friends. I value my friendships more than just about anything and I will go out of my way to make sure I'm respectful to and supportive of the people I care about most.

Years and years ago, I was eating lunch with my friend Wes and he was talking about who he'd invite into his survival group in the event of an apocalypse. Wes is someone (as is Mary) who plans for this type of thing. I believe they both stockpile food... just in case. Annie, on the other hand, has the mentality that she'd rather just be done with it because she can't bear to eat canned food.

The day Wes was talking about who he'd invite into his survival group, I realized that I hadn't made the cut. Brad made the cut because he's a good shot and knows more than a thing or two about farming. Rob made the cut because he, too, can handle a gun. Dee made the cut because she knows all about fixing things and growing things and just doing things in general. "What about me?" I asked. "I'm one of your bosom friends!"

Wes smoothed his mustache and said, "I hear you, Meeson, but what're you good at? I mean... yeah. You can write. You're artsy, but..." And then his face lit up like a bulb had just turned on inside his brain. He became quite animated. "You know what? YES. Yes, you make the cut because you are, if anything, loyal to a fault. To a fault, Meeson. So sure. I can always use another loyal person in my party." It's probably the nicest thing Wes has ever said about me.

It is, in fact, up there with the nicest things anyone has ever said about me.

I was having long talks with my mom on the phone the other night. Some wine was involved. I mean, I'd just survived all of the days leading up to Thanksgiving break and I was feeling both exhausted and elated. She and I got onto the topic of friendships and I was evaluating mine. I mentioned the compliment Wes had given me all those years ago and commented on how much it means to me. "You know," I said, "look at Kathy. She and I don't always see eye to eye on things, and we've definitely had our spats over the years, but that woman is going to be a part of my life until the day that I die."

Kathy and I have been in one another's lives since nursery school, but she lived on one side of the Lake and I lived on the other and our lives didn't properly intersect again until middle school. We attended a summer basketball camp and essentially fell in love with one another's sense of humor. "Elbow-to-elbow" isn't funny to anyone else, but if Kathy is reading this right now, I guarantee she's laughing.

I guess I must have been dropping Kathy's name around the house an awful lot following basketball camp because my mom suggested I look up her number (in the phonebook!) and give her a call. I did. We went to the swimming pool and ended up having a sleepover. I think it was all in the same day, but maybe I'm blurring timelines; this was, after all, decades ago. She's been a part of my life forever.

At the sleepover, Kathy did two things that let me know she would never leave me: 1) She had me feel her calf, which was really hairy because she hadn't shaved for a long time, and 2) She peed in front of me. We've been friends ever since.

This is not to say, however, that we haven't had our differences. We have! But the thing about Kathy is this: If I've done or said something to offend her (and because of my bluntness, this does occasionally happen), she will let me know. I will apologize for hurting her feelings, we will both take some time to consider the other's point of view, and then we'll come back to the realization that we love one another and are going to remain friends forever. Kathy is very much like a sister to me.

In talking to my mom last night, she pointed out that another great friend quality of mine is my inability to lie. It's true that I "lie" to my students every year in order to convince them that Wes is older than I am (he's actually not), but I don't lie about important things. I can't. "You're physically and mentally incapable of lying to anyone," my mom said. "I've known you since the day you were born and this has been apparent since very early on. The guilt eats you alive. And you have to talk about every detail of every situation, analyzing it and overanalyzing it to death. I know this; I've witnessed this for years. Decades. You don't lie to people. You can't."

In not lying to people I love (or even people I can't stand... because really, I can't lie!) I have surrounded myself with a network of quality folks who have proven their loyalty to me as well. I would name them, but there are simply too many to list, and so I will leave it to them to read this blog post and know that I love them. And that their friendship means everything to me. And that this Thanksgiving, just like every Thanksgiving, I am thankful to have them in my life.