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| Where would we be without our friends? |
According to some beliefs, the friends you meet and the
time which you’ll occupy each other’s lives is mapped out and agreed with a
higher divinity from which we all come from and to which we all return … until
that is we’re born again to fulfil another life purpose. I’ve been trying to
get my head around this for quite a few years now. Some of it I claim to
understand, but the more I do the more questions I seem to have.
When we define ‘friends’, we must include our family who
should of course be our very best friends.
I suppose that is why we also regard best friends we meet along the way as
family too. Our feelings toward the
latter gravitate to and match those which we show to our family: love,
protection, nurture, loyalty, to name but a few. So best friends are those who are indeed our
extended family. If they were all a box
of chocolates, they’d be your Willy Wonka Everlasting Flavour!
Let’s not forget those with whom we become friends for only
a short while before continuing on separate paths. There’s a real probability
that we parted company only after learning something important from one
another.
Understanding the true value of friendship is one of
life’s greatest lessons, at least it is for me anyway. If we open ourselves to friendship’s teaching,
then we are open to the opportunity to grow as a human being. Love, compassion and dare I say it even hate
and envy, are emotions shaped by the friendships we make and break as we travel
through this testing journey called life.
I like to think that hate and envy are two lessons that we put aside by
the time we grow out of knee length socks and school blazers, but of course the
human condition often has other ideas.
Arguably one of the most profound gifts that friendship bestows
is that of empathy, specifically when it comes from those who have been right
where you are now and know exactly how you feel. They have suffered their own loss and are
surviving grief so they make no excuse for telling you exactly how it’s going
to be, and like it or not, you need to hear what they have to say because their
advice is spot on. It goes without
saying that I’d rather have spared those friends from the agony I have felt,
but this is life and we all know what it entails. I’ve valued sharing my feelings with them and
one day (not any time soon please God) the batten will be passed to me and I
will have just the right words to help another friend through their own loss.
One of the true tests of friendships comes (as I said in
my first blog) when tragedy strikes. Metaphorically speaking, your true friends
are the ones gripping tightly to an outstretched blanket to catch you as you
take that leap from whichever great height you are falling from.
We all say the same thing when someone loses a loved one:
“He/she is looking over you.” or “He/she hasn’t really gone.” I have been struck by just how many of my
friends have nodded sagely when I’ve told them that I still talk to Brian every
day, that I feel him guiding my hand when I need him the most. Not for one moment have I ever felt that they
might be worried I’m losing the plot.
Quite the opposite. On more than
one occasion my eyebrow has voluntarily lifted skywards at the recognition that
we are all on the same page when it comes to pondering the philosophy of life
(and death).
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| One day when feeling proud of myself for fixing a leak in the irrigation system and in thanking Brian for the part he must have played in it, in his own divine way: "do you see the white heart in the picture Beverley?", said a friend "Brian is certainly right by your side." And, there it was, as plain as the nose on my face! |
Aside from the above, and as luck (or is that purpose?)
would have it, a good handful of my friends carry every sort of expertise
required to help me tackle stuff that I’ve previously held no interest in or
need to know. There’s Paul the pool expert,
for example. As I’ve plunged the depths
(pardon the pun) of pool maintenance, he’s been there to help me sort my
hydrochloric acid from my muriatic acid and how much of each I need to tip in
the pool and how often. There’s Scott the plumber who has come to my rescue on
more than one occasion to brave the horrors of the sceptic tank or peer in to
my water deposits and fiddle with the fuse board in the pump house. And I currently await the services of a Spanish
friend who’s rather handy at fixing door locks. They’re certainly not the only ones who have
come to my aid. In these early days, as
I bravely attempt taking on Brian’s responsibilities, I’ve been hugely grateful
to the friends who’ve ‘popped round’ to do some rotivating, helped fix the
automatic irrigation system, or who have ventured bravely into the sunken pit where
sits all the mechanisms for keeping the swimming pool fit for purpose. Believe me, the latter is a place you don’t
want to step into given that a carpet of insects, beetles and spiders awaits to
squirm between your toes and crawl up your trouser leg. I guess I might pluck
up the courage to step into this pit of doom one day provided that is I can
find waders that do up at the neck!
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| Nigel comes round to do some rotivating |
My friends are there to make sure that I’m not alone and
I have an almost endless list of those to thank for their constant vigilance
and phone calls, not forgetting the immense depth of gratitude owed to those
who’ve made the journey to Spain to visit. I’d encourage anyone to pay
attention to their social life and not hide themselves away, it really is the
best medicine. A good dose of social
interaction such as meeting friends for coffee, catching up after work for a
“menu del noche”, and all other kinds of leisurely friendship pursuits is key to
adjusting to life after losing a loved one. And, before you think it: no, you
are not dishonouring their memory by learning to laugh again. Quite the opposite is true: it is testament to
the love you shared; you are preserving all the very best of what you had when
they were alive and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
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| Chilling out on the terrace at Finca del Olivar with friends visiting from England |
Finally, when I’m sitting down at the end of a long day,
I’m grateful when the phone rings or Facebook chat ‘pings’ and I can offload
all that’s going on right now, even for just a while. It’s not always a one-way
street of course and often I feel I can reciprocate when talking with friends and family to help place their own troubles firmly back in the box. Only then, can I comfortably slip into bed and scratch the
heads of two cats who await to calm me with their contented
purrs.
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| A beautiful water colour from Jo, started for Brian, but finished for me. A precious gift from a very special friend. |
So, as I step boldly into this new adventure of mine, I’m
very conscious of just how vital my friends are. Of course, no life would be much of an
adventure without them. They present all kinds of dilemmas at times but by far
the easiest one is simply choosing which bar has the best wine and tapas on a
Thursday after work, eh Mary?
Just one last word of advice: when your friends tell you
that you’re amazing and how strong you are, do yourself a favour and let
yourself believe that you are!
Coming up: The adventure to
date: a roundup of Summer and going back to school!
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