Friendship Therapy
Tonight my son in law accused me of slowly killing my blog. I think it has “failure to thrive” from lack of attention. I’ve had so many emotions clanging around my headlately it is hard to settle on one mood long enough to write something. I’ve had so many pent up emotions I have hardly dared to open the door for fear they would swarm out like a hive of angry bees and attack anyone standing in their way. I know writing is good therapy but I’m from the old school and it is hard for me to write about things that “are better left unsaid.” Well, I don’t exactly agree with the old school but I don’t know that I want my blog to be full of all my woes either. Thumper’s mother and my mother had the same idea: “If you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all.” But …
I went out to lunch today with two of my dearest friends. We worked closely in a church calling for three years and saw each other at least twice a week … shared our thoughts on every subject and knew they would be held in confidence. For the last year we’ve seen each other at church, given a quick hug, and said, “We’ve got to get together some time.”
Well finally “some time” came and we met at the Pasta Factory. We’d barely settled in our chairs that were in the middle of this crowded, noisy restaurant before we were deep into the “How’s Your Family’s?” … and we stayed at that table for three hours refilling our drinks and unloading our worries and cares. It felt so good! We hold nothing back once we get started and concern and love is clearly seen on all three faces as we take our turns comforting and then crying our woes. Between us we had 3 deaths, heart problems, spouse illness, job problems, a child who put out an eye with a bottle rocket, raising grandchildren, aches and pains, finances, kid problems … you name it we had it! We had such fun talking and even laughing about it all, and we never even got to the things that have gone right in our lives in the last year! Such therapy you could never pay for!
We ate a large lunch of pasta and drank so many drinks we should have left there heavier than when we arrived, but I for one felt much lighter having shared some of my burdens with my gal pals. We made a pact that it is much cheaper for us to meet over lunch once a month than to make three appointments with a psychiatrist.
I told the gals I would pick up the tab the first time and sent off my credit card with the waitress. When the slip came back it was half what I had expected. I asked the waitress to check it and sure enough, it was wrong … so she took my card again and went back to the cash register for about ten minutes, head bent closely to the young man at the register as they talked and played with the credit card machine. Finally she came back and said, “We don’t know how to fix it so it’s your lucky day.” That’s a good sign that this therapy is going to pay off!
