Circles of Friends

As most of you know, this last year and few months have been an emotional rollercoaster with dips and turns so dizzying I can barely catch my breath before the next loop. Just when I think the ride is coming to an end, it speeds up again.

And in the middle of this ride, I had a moment. An "ah-ha" moment, if you will.

I've talked about my friends before. They are amazing in every sense of the word. I have no idea how I lucked into their circle, but I thank the Universe every other day for sending them into my life.

You see, going through something like a divorce changes you.

I always had high standards set for myself - photo perfect centerpieces, children clothed in ironed shirts and dresses, healthy and organic meals. And in regards to friendship, remembering thank you notes, birthday cards and gifts, and being as close to the perfect hostess as possible. And never, ever did I need help.

But when something knocks your world off its axis, you start to realize you need to lower your standards in order to survive.

You don't worry about things like centerpieces, your children clothed is an accomplishment, and if you're not eating out, you're doing good. As for friendships, you hope and pray you remember to at least text on birthdays and that a sincere thank you via Facebook won't send Emily Post rolling in her grave.

You give up on being the perfect hostess and hope your friends continue to pretend not to notice you haven't swept in a week and your dust bunnies have grandchildren.

And the funny thing is, I've felt my friendships deepen as, by neccessity, I've lowered my standards for myself and asked for help.

Over the last year, I've had to ask for help more times than I can count. Help with birthday parties. Help with moving. Help with my garden. Help with my water heater. Help finding my laughter. And each time I ask, I notice my friends able to accept help from me.

Who would have thought that vulnerability breeds deepened friendships? Who would have thought that by letting go of my need to control, I'd be free?

Because within those deepened friendships, I've discovered a community built on love, food, laughter, and acceptance.

If I were to have surgery tomorrow, I know the waiting room would be filled. My sisters would be there, my parents, Chad, my close friends. They would pray, bring flowers, calm my fears, make sure my hair wasn't standing on end. They'd hug me, ease my worries, and make me laugh at inappropriate times. They would be there from the time I was checked in until the staff kicked them out. That close, inner circle sustains me. They're a safety net that has caught me more times that I can count.

Take one step outside that circle, and there's another net, another circle of friends. I may not see them often, but every one of them would pick my children up from school or daycare. They would make sure my chickens were fed, my mail checked, and that I wouldn't have to worry about cooking for three months.

One more step brings another circle made up of co-workers and people I only chat with on occassion. They would send more prayers, more flowers, meals, offers of help.

And that's not even taking into consideration the virtual circle. That group of people who would overwhelm me with thoughts, prayers, support. The ones who have proven time and again that they are there to hold me up virtually, which, in this case, is reality.

I know all this without a doubt. There's no question in my mind what would occur if something happened to me. This net of women and men weaves and interlocks around me, offering safety, protection, love. I trust them with my children. I trust them with my friendship. I trust them with my secrets. I trust them with myself.

I wonder, sometimes, what I did to deserve such beautiful people in my life. My biggest fear is that I will disappoint them somehow, that they might not know how very much I love them and how important they are in my life.

When they do something kind, loving, incredible for me, I stumble over my words, I stammer, I blush, I get uncomfortable. It's not until I sit down in front of a blank screen that I can tell them how I feel. And in this case, it's not until I sit down in front of Google that I can find the perfect words.

"When true friends meet in adverse hour;
'Tis like a sunbeam through a shower.
A watery way an instant seen,
The darkly closing clouds between."
- Sir Walter Scott