One of my favorite times of the year is when my girlfriends and I plan our annual summer vacation. We always block a weekend for Kristi to come to my house and have a marathon planning session. Some people might think our ritual odd but it’s a mini vacation in itself. We talk about it for weeks before we actually get together. Every day there are texts exclaiming “can’t wait to get there” and “OMG, I’m so excited to see you and start the process”. When she arrives, we immediately get into our pj’s or yoga pants, grab our laptops and notebooks (yes, we still write it out), and jump into my king size bed. That’s half of the fun. The other half is all of the snacks and junk food we buy in preparation. I always go to the grocery store and get our favorite snacks to have on hand. Once we are settled in the bed we start researching and making lists. We also start snacking. Then we call our other best friend, JJ, and get her on the phone to join in the fun. She lives too far away to make the drive but it’s like we are all together. It’s truly heaven.
The ease and comfort of being with my girls is especially surprising in light of the fact I’m basically a loner and I’ve always had trouble forming intimate relationships. Before I got sober it was almost impossible. The selfish habits and self centered thoughts kept me from taking the action required to build and sustain those connections. It was hard even after sobriety. Although I had a lot of friends I kept them all at arms length. It was safer that way. This all changed when my marriage of 22 years ended.
It was April 2010 and it was official - my marriage was over. We lived together, owned businesses and properties together, and had children together. It was devastating. Years of isolating from others caught up with me in an instant. Alone in a house too big for almost anyone, I couldn’t see a way to the other side of this despair. Of course I was heartbroken about the marriage, but I was just as displeased with how I landed. Alone. How did I let this happen? Here I was 28 years sober and my one close friend, J.J., lived a thousand miles away. Insomnia crept in along with anxiety and depression. Knowing I was at a critical juncture, I hit my knees for the first time in years. Although I prayed regularly, it had been a long time since I humbly asked for help. Then I slept. Before long my prayers for help were answered and God sent a flock of angels disguised as sober addicts, young people, teachers, and comedians to pull me from the abyss.
Not long after my emotional plea for help, I received a call from a young lady. Abby asked if she could come over and spend the night at my house. She went on to say she was having a hard time being so far away from her family and needed some company. Somewhat reluctant, I said yes. Abby came to spend the night but stayed several weeks. Some of you reading this might know Abby. If you do, you are lucky. Abby is loud, sometimes inappropriate - no, most of the time inappropriate, and one of the kindest people on this planet. She dragged me to scary movies, made me sing and dance, got on my nerves, watched me cry, and took care of me. She taught me what it means to be a friend. All of this was without asking. Abby loves people and began to invite others to my house and on outings. It was brutal for this loner. Before long my home was full of young, loud people. I begged her to leave me alone but she insisted she was having a hard time and didn’t want to leave. It was a year or two later that I found out she had lied to me. She knew I had too much pride to ask for help and she could sense I needed a friend. She was worried about me. Abby saved my life.
Being a good friend is a serious relationship. It requires effort, time, and commitment. My life was so unbalanced there was no room or energy for anything other than family and business. Besides, I thought being a friend meant that I would do anything to help you. I had been doing that for years. Hell, you didn’t even have to be my friend. The problem was it was always one-sided. Being vulnerable and admitting I needed others was never comfortable and was easily avoidable but that’s what friendship is about. It was only when it all came crashing down that I realized the importance of friendships.
Before long, I started feeling better. Getting connected to other women was the oxygen I needed to breathe. But I had to do more. I began to look at the friendships in my life as vital to my survival and therefore required diligent care and effort. Being connected meant I had to let them know Carol Lind - the good and bad. As long as I was always the one giving advice, having the answers, and never asking for support it wasn’t an equal relationship. It kept me in a protective bubble ultimately separating me from others, thus separating me from God.
It wasn’t long before every room in my house was occupied and laughter filled all of the dark empty spaces. During this time I became close to my best friend, Kristi. She drove two hours every Friday to spend the weekends with me. We laughed, cried, yelled, and sat quietly. Slowly we began to peel away the protective layers of our existence and became vulnerable as friends. We traveled like gypsies side by side. There isn’t anything I can’t share with her. We don’t judge each other and we don’t judge others. We are connected.
Today I am closely surrounded with a tribe of women that will catch me before I hit the ground. I will walk a hundred miles for any and all of them. The facade of perfectionism has long been thrown out with the trash and they all accept me - blemishes and all. Over the last ten years I’ve had more laughter and adventure than I had the previous fifty. When I took off the mask I thought protected me, I found true happiness and I found it with friendship.
Our annual vacation is more than a trip. It’s a symbol of our victory over life’s curve balls. It’s proof of the bond we have with each other. It’s a quiet knowing that we have each other’s backs no matter what. Kristi, JJ, and I will soon board a plane and leave the country. We will take amazing pictures and have great adventures. One of us will probably end up in an emergency room at some point. We usually do. Once, Kristi and my daughter, Sara, slept in a chair in an emergency room in Tortola, BVI while I was admitted with a case of ciguatera. That’s another blog, though. Our annual trip is a celebration of all we’ve been through together. It’s an expression of our sisterhood and support for each other. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever experienced prior to that night on my knees asking for help. God sent more than help. He sent friends.
Another great read, Carol Lind. I especially love "God sent more than help. He sent friends." So often, I want to figure it all out on the mountaintop, alone. But almost always, God sends a friend or two to help me with my "figuring."
What a blessing to have friends you love, and who love you back. It makes me think of this quote by Tim Keller:
Timothy J. Keller > Quotes > Quotable Quote
“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.”
As a guy that has been able to witness this group of friends over the years, I know that it is very special indeed and you are all blessed to have each other! ❤️