My People

My group of friends was recently called a “support group”. I don’t think it was meant as a kind adjective. The insult was lost on me because that’s exactly what my little group does for one another-support.

Having chunked cable I now spend my nights running marathons. Marathons of tv shows that is. Grey’s Anatomy is my latest obsession. 9 seasons now. The group on this show refer to their friends “you are my person”. That fits. I have people.

Today one of my people put out a call for help. We descended on her armed with casseroles, alcohol, a boob cake and her 2 favorite men: Ben and Jerry and presents! She greeted us each with a hug and a gleeful,”you came comfortable!” I knew what she meant. My little support group takes you as you are so leggings, faded shirts and fleece are all perfectly acceptable. No dolling up required.

And once together we did what we do-cried a little, laughed a LOT and got stuff DONE. We cursed and bickered good naturedly as our varying taste and personalities bumped into one another’s. With this group saying,”you are right,” or “I am wrong” isn’t even hard. I didn’t stutter a single time as I admitted that less was indeed more in this case. Really. I didn’t.

No one even made fun of my lopsided, pitiful little cake. In fact they laughed which was exactly what I needed. The delegated cake buyer didn’t even get mad when I pulled out the catastrophe. “Girl you needed a creative outlet. I read your blog.” She put her perfectly delectable and preciously ganached creation back in the bag and let my sorry excuse take center stage. She even ate a piece of mine over her triple chocolate masterpiece. That’s a friend right there.

The escapades of the last few days seemed less tragic when the story was spiced up with anecdotes from fartbuster or when hearing how Wes didn’t die or with the sweetest Italian ever rolling her eyes and adding her 2 cents. It’s hard to cry when you are laughing at yourself.

Misery does love company. More than one of us has had a pretty miserable year. I am miserable, or have been, and am thankful for the company of my girls. Somehow we’ve managed to not be miserable at the same time. The one in the worst shape takes the floor while the others interrupt, advise or go ahead and cry right along with you. Nothing is sacred, nothing off limits and no topic taboo. If you put it out there you’ll get an opinion or two back. Of that you can be assured.

Today I was not the unhappiest or the worst of the lot. Hard to believe, right? Today someone else got the floor-or at least they did after I told a quick tale. Today I made someone happy. Today I was surrounded with people who know me and I was loved. I had people today. I might not have anyone to bring me coffee on Sunday
Mornings but I do have a friend willing to pluck and decide when to pull the plug if I get into medical trouble. (Seriously the plucking proxy is a load off my mind.) I’ve even got a back-up if the first proxy gets a little trigger happy (or tired of plucking). Today we had hugs and a quick roll call if who was going where for thanksgiving so that no one ended up alone.

I might not have a person. But I have people.



6 thoughts on “My People

  1. Pingback: Nailed It | Baddest Mother Ever

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