Skip to main content

going nowhere part 1


I go and visit one of my friends every week or two.
She has been on bedrest for the last few months.
She is stuck on the couch and I just know that would drive me out of my mind so I come.

At first I go because I think that this is what friends do.
They show up.
They bring food.
And well, I know friends are supposed to do a lot more things than that.
Like remember birthdays and not make insensitive comments.
And I keep screwing those up.
But I’m good at showing up and getting take out.

And visiting my friend is a little bit hard.
Because her life is difficult right now and I can’t do anything about it.
I can’t bring her son back.
I can’t get her husband a job.
I can’t heal her tear or promise her that this baby will make it.
All I can do is sit with her on the couch.
Sitting on the couch with her means I have to be willing to go through the hard with her.
Feel some of her loss and hope and doubt in my own heart.
Even if that is rarely what we talk about.

But I have started to really look forward to seeing her.
And my time at her house.
And I am busy and squeezing out this time is sometimes tricky.
But I am starting to look forward to it. To want it. To make my visits closer together.
And it isn’t so much about “being a good friend”, but more about hanging out with one.
Because I am starting to enjoy my time on the couch.

I like showing up in my pajamas.
I like sitting down.
Not going anywhere.
Not drinking anything.
And just being.
Watching TV.
Breaking up toddler fights.
And trying to clean up after myself for a change.
Getting my own glass of water.
And talking about nothing and everything all in the same sentence.

There is very little pretending on that couch.
There is nothing easy or off limits or pretentious.
I am starting to really like her couch.
I’m sure my friend is anxious to get off of it.
Or to hold a newborn on it.
And I’m starting to be more sure that the time for that will come.
Until then, I hope she saves me a spot next to her.

(p.s. and to those of you that actually know me or my couch friend...this was obviously written a few weeks ago. I'll follow it up with an update soon enough)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Canceled

I inhale books. So much so that I’m occasionally embarrassed by my intake. I don’t want anyone to think that I don’t work or pay attention to my family.  I’m just a fast reader and I don’t watch a lot of TV or play any games on my phone. Well – except for Wordle of course. My library card get a lot of miles. However, I still probably spend an embarrassing amount on books.  Even though I often put books in those cute little free libraries – I still have more books than shelves.  Today I did something tragic.  I did not renew my book of the month membership.  And let's be honest, it is more like three books a month.  I am not unhappy with the customer service, quality  or selection.  Book of the Month, I promise …it’s not you - it’s me.  I want to invest in my writing and I realize this going to cost me.  I don’t want to take that money from my family or my kid’s college funds.  Instead I had to evaluate what I was willing to give up.  What financial choices impact me but not as many

slow

Recently I went to the local running store and let them charge a ridiculous amount for a new pair of running shoes. I used to run. Just like I used to do lots of things, but lately I have been slow to get off the couch. Let’s be honest. This season has been a long one, and I’ve been slow to do a lot of things that are good for me. My old shoes are wearing thin and nothing motivates like a new pair of kicks.  I quickly found my brand and style of choice and asked the worker to bring them in my size. The owner spoke up from the back, “So you are picking your shoes out based on how they look?” I pulled my own foot into her view. I showed her a similar pair in teal, well worn, with the big toe scuffed all the way through. The model was a few years old and I needed a fresh start.  “Nope. These are my brand, but I’m open to your suggestions.” Runners are very particular about their shoes.  I tell her I need something to absorb a lot of the impact.  I tell her that I overpronate just a little

The annual REAL Christmas letter: 2021 edition

  One of my favorite traditions for over a  decade has been to sit down and try to write a REAL Christmas letter.  Not just the highlights, but a few honest moments as well. It started as a joke with one of my friends, thinking how refreshing it be for people to share more than just their perfect lives that we are used to seeing on Facebook and Instagram. It would be way more truthful and a whole lot more entertaining. So here goes… 2021 I had such high hopes for you. Well, actually the bar was pretty low but clearly not low enough. If I have learned anything from 2020 it is that even things that are difficult, the days are still a gift. It is a gift to gather with family without a Covid test or a worrisome 5 days after. It is a gift to go to the movies or a concert. It is a gift to go to work, school and sporting events. It is a gift to get vaccines, to board an airplane to sit in a pew at church. It is a gift to be allowed back to visit someone in the emergency room. It is a gift to