When I first became ill with my lung issues my children were two and nearly five. My husband and I married very young (I was 21!) and were subsequently the first of our circle of friends to have children. This turned out to be basheret, the Yiddish term which means "meant to be". I f I hadn't had my kids so young I wouldn't have any at all, given what happened to me. Back then we hung around with many members of our university friends, mostly those who were in my husband's fraternity and their girlfriends. Our little one was almost like a mascot that we took with us to bar-b-cues and pool parties and restaurants. As those girlfriends became wives our son was the ring-bearer in two weddings. One couple in particular, the guy who had actually gone through elementary, junior high, high school and university (also a frat member) always stopped by on his birthday.
I became ill two months before my son's fifth birthday. I didn't know what or where I'd be so I started planning his birthday party well in advance. I did it slowly, booking a gymnastics studio that offered birthday parties, gathering matching superhero tablecloths, plates and napkins and assembling the loot bags. As it turned out, his birthday fell on a Sunday. I was in the hospital for the first of what was to be many stays due to a collapsed lung. I think that I had just had a feeling that something might happen to me and I didn't want my son to miss having a birthday party. That morning, that same couple who dropped by annually to smother my son in hugs and kisses and piggy back rides every year dropped by our house. They saw my husband, trying to get two kids dressed and out the door complete with all of the pre-purchased party supplies. "What's going on? Where's Jodi?" They asked. When my husband told them they said that they were sorry to hear that. We never heard from them again.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of hosting lunch for two of my oldest friends, one who had flown all the way across the country from Vancouver. As I sat there with them, me with my oxygen prongs in my nose I had so many emotions. Regret, that we didn't see each other often enough. Joy, at being able to talk about everything that's going on in our lives and I mean EVERYTHING! Relaxed, because with old friends you don't have to put on a "show" (even though, as my daughter says, "you like the house to look like no one actually lives here!) and just sheer happiness.
Whether it's an illness, a loss in stature, a divorce, or G-d forbid a death, you really find out who your friends are. Those you can call when you're in a state of panic or just need to vent or cry. Just something to think about. Some people may surprise you and others, well, that's their shame to carry.
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