Friends

I was thinking about important friends are. Some say that family ties are the most important relationships in your life and it is hard to argue that point. In fact, the phrase, "blood is thicker than water" certainly lends credence to this. Where this phrase came from, I don't know, but according to phrase scholars it apparently alludes to the fact that water evaporates without leaving a trace, whereas blood leaves a stain. So in other words, family is like dirty laundry. Now we are getting to something that even I can understand.

What brought this thought on was not me questioning my family relationship, either immediate or extended. I am happy to say that it has been many months since I wanted to change my last name and move to Honduras to tend sheep. It was more of my thoughts about my friends and how really important they are in my life. There is nothing better for the ego than to have a close friend tell you the real truth, something that most family members sugar-coat and tap dance around until you forget what it was about.

I feel horrible admitting this, but some of the funniest moments I have spent with friends had them being the brunt of some form of discomfort. Not anything bad, mind you, just enough to make a situation unbearably funny. An example was years ago when I was moving my apartment and like all good friends, Paul agreed to help me. There was just the two of us doing all the work and I had recently been given a sofa bed. I must note that we were both quite young and inexperienced in the ways of moving. It was our first experience in moving a piece of furniture such as this and were unaware of the killer instincts that are the nature of a fold out couch. This was a lesson that neither of us has ever forgotten.

I was moving into an old beautiful building, a third floor unit overlooking the park. We were up to the second floor when the couch opened up. I was on the upper part of the stairs and Paul was on the lower portion. I remember feeling the bed flipping open and as I looked up, I saw the frame of the bed portion had caught him just under his chin, pinning him to the wall. He had this look of confusion on his face which was compounded by an inability to utter a single word as the bed pressed against his neck. He had been lifted off his feet like Mr. Atlas did to the bully on the beach. I could hear his feet kicking weakly against the wall as he tried to gain some sort of foothold. You would have thought I would have sprung into action. I knew he needed help and tried as I may, I couldn’t summon the strength to react in a helpful manner. As I struggled with the weight of the furniture, now wildly out of control, every time I looked up, I could see Paul looking at me beseechingly. I couldn’t help myself, I kept breaking out in laughter. Not mere laughter, tears rolling down my face laughter. Laughter that zapped my strength, I was hopeless and helpless with laughter, arms and legs like wet spaghetti. I did manage to scramble over the couch in short order, but as Paul attested to later, I was not nearly as fast as I should have been. In fact, his first words were something to the effect of what was so funny? I couldn’t even attempt to articulate what was so funny then and I still find it almost impossible to articulate now. But it remains as fresh and as funny as the day it happened. I sometimes wonder if Paul still has such fond memories of my moving day as I do.

Friends really are, I guess, a matter of choosing and individual preference. But why is it that sometimes even the most polar of opposites can end up being friends for life? Is there some germ of connectivity that somehow we consciously or unconsciously are able to determine who would be a friend? Why is it that at one stage of your life it is more important who your friends are and not what they are? Maybe this is an age thing, but what your friends stand for, by far outstrips any social status they may have. Why is it that no matter what has happened in your life, negative or positive there is still a friend who will support you without question. I am not implying that family wouldn’t be there, they would. I think in even the most dysfunctional family there is still that familial obligation. But someone from outside the family does have options. To me that stands for a lot and that is why at this time of year I have been thinking of my friends a lot. There are no cute phrases about friends just being strangers we haven’t meet. A friend is not an acquaintance. A friend is beyond that and beyond words. A friend is well, a friend for life.

I hope this little story about Paul doesn’t make you think twice about helping me the next time I need to move. Really, I have matured a lot over the years.