Be Gentle

We are our worse critics. We know that. But what is amazing is how cruel we can be to ourselves. What we would never say or think about our friends, we put upon ourselves. Our self-criticisms are not gentle, they are at times, cruel and evil.

Recently, a good friend of mine passed away. He would be proud that I remembered not to put a s on the end of "mine". It was a little thing between us. "That's mines" I would say. He would smile and gently correct me. It is funny how one remembers the little thing between friends when they are not around. My friend died from cancer. We don't get to have those conversations anymore. In the last few months of his life, I would go to visit him often. As his sister-in-law said to me, "I try to come as often as I can because I don't know how much time we have left". And we didn't know. We knew it was limited because the hospital sent him home after years of his illness. He managed to battle cancer for the majority of his life. He had lost part of his leg, later to have the whole leg removed. And he was still going. My friend seemed invincible and I just thought the hospital was wrong.

I only visited and did not live with my friend through his final days. His husband and his family was with him much more than I was. Yet, the recorder inside of me took in the gradual changes. As cancer took a stronger hold of his body, my mind was filled with "before and after" images. His body became weaker. He became thinner. And I cried when my friend's mind no longer was sharp. His statements stopped making sense. It tore at me like muscles being pulled away from the bones. The pain was not visible. I knew it would mend with time but it was there.

One of the last things I got to share with my friend toward the end of his life was that another one of my best friends had gotten a great job in Hawaii. When I told him, he lit up and smiled. I shared that moment with my buddy that was leaving for the islands. She was happy that he was able to acknowledge her news despite his struggle to make sense of things in that stage of the disease.  He died days later. So, after watching one friend pass away, I prepared to say bye to another. I promised her that if she got the job and decided to move, I would go with her to help her settle in her new home. Hawaii is so far away from the Midwest. I hoped that simply having a friend on the plane ride over would help. It was odd, going back to the airport but not having her board with me. This time, as I said good-bye to another friend, I had the feel of an empty, gnawing stomach. Different hurt but pain just the same.

I like to self-medicate.  Greasy food, sugary treats gives a numbing result. Anything with cheese on it helps. Drinks are good too. After saying bye to my friends, I didn't feel good so I medicated. What was left was a person 20 pounds heavier. Rather than admit that I was in pain, I beat myself up some more. I told myself that I was being a baby. I looked in the mirror and was fixated on the ugliness that I had decided was in front of me. There was no gentle happening at a time that my soul really just needed a hug. So cruel.

I'm starting to feel better. I've taken a little time each day to write in my personal journal and to take myself on some much needed walks by the lake. I now see a friend in the mirror. That's the thing about friendships. It comes with amazing highs but also a few lows. I am blessed that I have beautiful friends. I am being gentle with me, just as my friends have always done when I needed help. And that is how I treat my friends. It works for me too.

If you would like to read about my now departed friend and how his husband has survived the lost, check out the xanax diary.