The Benefits of Aging with a Friend

My friend SK and I have been together going on 11 years. I know, nutty.

On Monday morning I waved my father off in a cab and went about my day, becoming more and more deflated as the day progressed. Monday night I went to my knitting class and, after arriving home, ignored my family and knit for the rest of the evening.

On Tuesday I gathered my children up with few kisses, hugs and laughs and schlepped them to school, schlepped myself to the train and work all the while being spit on by the sky. I walked through the day arriving home to my bed at 5:45. Stayed there until Wednesday.

Wednesday was a mirror image of Tuesday with the exception of watching tv instead of going directly to bed.

Thursday I woke up feeling as though the darkness was subsiding. I picked up the phone when arriving at my desk and told my friend SK that I could breathe, that I didn't feel like going directly to bed, that the rain that continued was no longer mocking me. He replied, "I'm so glad hon. I know it's hard to say goodbye after visiting your family." What the...? Wait, this was about that? "You always get like this." My very best friend knows me the best of all.

Through this entire week of feeling like crap my sweet friend hugged, kissed, fed and played with the children so that I could wallow. He tucked me in and took the kids out to dinner so that I could sleep without guilt and without noise. He looked at me with his warm brown eyes and rubbed my leg when passing by the lump on the couch. Not only does he know me the best, he loves me the best. Tis a benefit of aging with a friend, no?

Libby is blessed.