Last night, after a quick run, I decided I would make a quick, comfort food dinner for myself. I grabbed a can of tomato soup and grilled half of a grilled cheese sandwich. While doing so, my mind began to wander back to the last time I had made a comfort food meal. I quickly remembered. It wasn’t a grilled cheese night but on Mother’s Day this year, my best friend was having a bad day. Perhaps it was because she lost her mother two years prior and had little to celebrate on this particular day. Perhaps it was because the time since her mother got sick has been one of more ups and downs than many people experience in a lifetime. Perhaps it was because my friend was still single and tired of being the only one of her friends to not have a “plus one” for the wedding invitations beginning to pile up in her mailbox. Who knows the exact reason why this was a bad day but our remedy was comfort food and conversation.
Thinking about that day and what we discussed and how I felt when she left made me miss something dreadfully. You see, my friend has grown exponentially over the past year. She is my age and has struggled with all of the typical twenty-something challenges but in addition to that, as I mentioned, she lost her mother (who was her best friend) when she was only in her mid-50s. Way too early. To add even more to this, my friend has been alone in the city for some time as her family is spread out around the country and her father has since remarried and has new family to juggle. She’s been through a lot and I’ve been at her side for much of it.
This year, however, my friend has finally worked her way out of the dark hole that kept sucking her in. She has accepted the tragedy of losing her mother and chooses to celebrate the life she had instead of dwelling too much on what could have been. She has learned how to love herself. She has learned that she is beautiful, inside and out. She has learned how to be in a relationship. She has learned that she doesn’t have to follow any specific path set out for her by society. She has learned so much and while she has so much more to learn in her life (we all do), she doesn’t need comfort food as much anymore.
The thing I missed dreadfully last night is not that my friend was hurting, but that it was the bond that takes place when one person hurts, the other person helps and somehow, the helper is also helped. Every time I gave my friend advice, support and love in her darkest hour, I learned something. I grew a little. I felt less alone and needed. It was a wonderful feeling even though it terrifies me when my friends cry. I never know what to do or say but somehow, with a little comfort food, I manage. By being willing to listen and be supportive, I was given the chance to be a grownup and lead the way. It encouraged my adulthood.
I think the thing about friendship in our 20s is that by being good friends, we receive even better friendship. My best friend and I are unique because we’ve been friends longer in our lives than we haven’t. We’ve also been through some serious crap together and made it through. Don’t misunderstand; I don’t want another parent to die in order to create a dire situation of need again. I’m just realizing that the way my friends need me as we move into adulthood is changing. Soon, best friends will have to compete with spouses (this has already taken place several times in my life and it sucks). Soon, I won't be #1 on my friends list to call in time of need because they'll have a new best friend in their spouse or their kids. Soon, my friendships will be different because my needs will be different. We're growing up and things are changing.
But for now, it’s a really wonderful feeling to look back and realize what this specific friendship overcame. In short, my best friends' needs exposed my needs and by leaning on each other and being willing to learn, we did just that.
