Postaday – On Bees and Efs
I have friends or good friends, but never a BFF – at least not one that resides solely in one person. In fact it is difficult for me to imagine any one person who could embody all aspects of what a ‘friend’ is, through the ages, through the moments and life events, who could appreciate who I am and accept without judgment what I do at all times, through all the changes in my life.
Do we have a right to expect this of anyone? Should negative judgment attach to anyone who is unable to fulfill this ‘job description’? I think not.
I have a close group of friends, who perhaps collectively knows everything there is to know about me (except for that part of me which I hold close – my secret life to which no one knows). Collectively, we share moments of hilarity and tears, we support each other through our pain and loss, we celebrate our lives.. and we speak of everyday mundane moments. We have created shared history which is a bedrock for the friendship years to come.
Yet each of them would know more than enough of me to be a very dear friend. Each of them would know one or more aspects of me in greater depth than the others. This phenomenon was not an intentional act to conceal parts of me from a friend. It is just that there is a friend with whom I am more comfortable confiding about the intricacies of my relationships, another with whom I share the highs and lows of my career, the other I speak to of the fears and hopes of parenting. Not any one is less important, not any one is less significant.
BFF means Best Friend Forever. Best friend – she who is somehow the best of the lot. Can you fathom that? I would not wish to pick, among my friends, who is best.
I have a fine group of women as friends who have stood by me, who have seen me through thick and thin, who have gently admonished me , picked me up, cheered me on, shared space with me in silence, kept me grounded.
I am blessed!