In the closet with friends

I just cleaned my closet. I know, BFD, right? Wrong, so very wrong. You see, normally, my Big Susan, T has that responsibility. Yes, I’m a grown woman who has to have her closet cleaned by a friend because I occasionally have brain farts when it comes to what should be kept, what can be donated and what should be burned.

T has helped me clean my closet as long as I can remember. Usually, it’s during one our visits and she sits on my bed while I go through and show her. She nods, shakes her head, rolls her eyes or makes gagging sounds. I can be a tough sell though. I had a hard time letting go of a denim overall jumper/dress that I wore pre-pregnancy, through my entire HUGE pregnancy and wanted to wear again. I simply couldn’t understand that perhaps a dress that fit me when I was carrying a giant baby would best be given to others after that baby is born.  T helped me see the light and when I refused to open my eyes to it, she yanked it from my hands and put it in the bag.

Sometimes, just sometimes, she’ll throw me a bone and let me keep something that she would never, in a million years, wear.  You see, T, is just about the most fashionable person I know.  She has a style. My style is “it’s clean and comfy.” I shop in Target, Old Navy, Macy’s – Nordstroms is a big deal. T is a regular at Neimans.  She knows when they have a sale and doesn’t have to rely on the Sunday circular to find out.

T believes I should have at least a couple of white blouses in my closet, claiming, “You can wear them with anything.”  I pandered to her and bought a couple (yep, she was with me and insisted they looked fab). I never – and I mean never – wore them. White blouses and my boobs are not friends – I would drip something before I even left the house. I ultimately gave them away to someone who would appreciate them more than I did. Someone with smaller boobs.

I have some questionable shoes in my closet. I have shoes I have never worn and ones I even forgot I had (but really, those brown slingbacks I found hiding in the back are fab.)  T helps me sort through these, too. I had a pair of tan and white backless loafers – bought at a time when things like that were “in.”  They were very cool and I remember feeling positively hip when I wore them. She told me they made me look like a pimp.

It gets better. She can clean the closet from a distance, too. I swear, I can call her, describe an item of clothing and tell what face she is making by the silence on the phone.  Her admonishment is just as stern from another state.

Now as stylish as T is –she has business attire down to a fine art – she stays in her comfort zone as much as I stay I mine. Girlfriend loves, and I mean loves, a black cashmere turtleneck. I joke that every time she goes out  she likely has a black turtleneck, jeans and boots (casually speaking - she would never wear this to work even on a business casual day.) I am always right – at least 99.9% of the time.  Getting her to wear color is a personal goal – of mine.

We send each other pictures of things we want to buy and things we bought. I just sent her a pic of a pair of Ivanka Trump shoes that I covet but can’t bring myself to buy. She said they looked like me (this is absolutely the only thing Ivanka and I have in common.)  She shares my embarrassment over my Jessica Simpson tote bag (really - the logo is so tiny it’s not noticeable.) I remember feeling absolutely giddy when she sent me a pic of a new cocktail dress she bought that had actual color in it. She picked it out and paid for it but I felt like it was my personal victory.

So now, my closet is cleaned. Sort of. I tell T it’s still in pretty bad shape so she needs to visit soon and exorcise it of bad taste.  And, next time I visit T I’m getting into her closet. She’ll put up a good fight but at least one black turtleneck is going in the bag.

Disclaimer: T proofs all of my blog posts. So, if this one sucks and/or you hate it, I blame her completely.

I need more hours in every day aka Finding time for friends

It’s the beginning of the school year, busy times at work and the High Holidays are right around the corner.  Quickly followed by Jillian’s birthday, Thanksgiving and the Winter celebrations. I haven't even figured in Brownies, riding lessons and the assorted school activities that suck the energy fill our evenings and weekends. The lazy days of summer are certainly over.  Needless to say, I’m feeling a wee bit harried and as a result, really disconnected from friends. They are all in the same boat – in some way, shape or form.

In our hyper connected times, it can be amazingly hard to stay connected in a real and meaningful way.  A Facebook status update doesn’t count. I’m talking about actually getting together with a friend – a drink, movie, a meal or just a quick cup of coffee. A real conversation with complete sentences.  How do we find the time and what do we sacrifice in order to make that happen?

For me, grabbing drinks or dinner and a movie with friends involves outside help. I know for others, logistics are just as crazy as they juggle multiple social calendars, work schedules and things that just have to happen – uh, like laundry and grocery shopping and if you’re lucky a shower and bathroom break.

Last weekend, I was able to catch up with J during a birthday party.  We did our best but well, you know, between running them to the bathroom, fetching food, and applying sunscreen we were lucky to finish a sentence.  Being in the pool was a bit better but again, we have to at least pretend to keep one eye on our kids as they sputter and splash. I was actually watching one kid swim in the pool when I realized it wasn’t mine – and mine was across the pool at the water slide. There goes my mom of the year award – but at least J and I were able to finish a complete thought.  Sort of.

Another friend just asked if I wanted to go see a movie – and I do (and will) but this means finding a night and hoping a sitter is available at the same time. And, since I already need a sitter one night this coming week for back-to-school night, it’ll be a double whammy. But, this is a friend who I haven’t really spent much time with. I really admire her and know it will be a nice evening and I’ll be glad I went.  I know it will be worth it.  (By the way, back in the day when I babysat, I got $1 per hour – that’s right, $1. I now pay sitters between $9-$15. WTF?? Half the time my kid is asleep and almost always have a pizza delivered for them)

J and I were talking that we’d like to schedule a monthly Shabbat dinner. Not that we will be offering services around our table (we’re lucky if we can get all kids sitting at one time and no one’s hair catches fire during the candle lighting) but more as a way to re-connect, feel a little faith and have a relaxing end to the week. Pizza and wine are just bonuses – it’s really the company that counts (okay, and the wine.) Sadly, we realized we couldn’t even consider this until after the High Holidays because, well – we’re swamped. I sure hope God understands.

Another friend and I talk repeatedly about dinner (and drinks, who are we kidding) after school one night – even tried to make it happen on the first day of school. But, kids with strong opinions and general life chaos didn’t let that happen. But we still talk about it.

My good friend, K and I, are thinking of taking our girls away for a long weekend – one last beach getaway before the weather changes. And yes, we will yank them out of school (more mom of the year awards for us!) because, well, it will be a learning experience (right?) and we get a chance to really hang out, relax and spend time together – the grownups and the kids.

Friendship, like everything else, takes time and energy.  Good friendships don’t need to be demanding – they will grow with wee bits of love and attention but we grow more as people when we take the time to nurture ourselves through these amazing relationships.  Time with friends – just doing anything – is a chance to re-charge and remind ourselves who we are and who and what matters to us.

So this weekend, I’m going to try and schedule that movie, put the Shabbat dinner on my calendar and see what I can do to make that that beach trip happen. My friends are worth it.

Big Susan's - It's not just for girls

There is a lot written about women and friendship. Hell, that is what this blog is about.  But, my mother did not just have daughters. For her son, my brother, the apple did not fall far from the friendship tree.

There is much to admire about my brother, R.  He is funny, wicked smart, successful, a terrific dad, a doting GP, a funny drunk, a warm host, great advice giver and a mighty snappy dresser (overall, he has pretty good taste – except for that hot pink and black horizontal striped dress he gave me years ago – what the fuck was he thinking???) 

He is also a great friend. 

R has some really good long time pals. One started out as the boyfriend of R’s ex-wife. Many go back to high school or earlier days.  There is a solid group that have seen each other through adolescence, young adulthood, the early married years, divorce, re-marriage, parenthood and now grandparenthood.  These are relationships borne over many years with much history. They know each others secrets and have war stories galore.  But these aren’t the only ones. 

He places just as much value on friends gathered in adulthood.  The R part of the family D is one of his nearest and dearest.  Some neighbors have become very good friends, golf pals and travel buddies. R heads up an annual Mexico trip that includes a handful of these friends. The trip is just a long weekend but full of guy things and guy smells.  They always have a great time and I’m sure that no one – other than the guys on the trip – know what really happens south of the border. 

I know he has struggled with friendships lost.  We’ve talked about it – wondering whatever happened with one or why a friendship with another fell apart. I know it hurts him to have walked away without that person in his life and though he moves forward, I know he feels that void.

I really admire my brother and his friends. These friendships are honest and true.  They are caring and real.  I know there are conversations among them that are deep and heartfelt. They’ve suffered losses and shared success. There have been arguments and likely a grudge or two.  Sometimes, some distance is required but they come back together, the friendship likely stronger for it.  They’ve grown up together from boys to men without losing their sense of fun and adventure.  They’ve seen each other through some tough times and relished the good. 

I know these friendships are nurtured. He calls. They email. They keep in touch and catch up. When I ask how a specific friend is, he can usually tell me, with fair detail, about what is going on in that person's life.  They hang out. An afternoon on the beach may evolve into drinks (who am I kidding, the drinking probably started on the beach) and dinner.  A round of golf may turn into lunch. A trip abroad may have been hatched over dinner or drinks by the fire.

Unlike women's friendships - these seem to be without the catty competitiveness that seems to thrive among the estrogen crowd.  Do men compete with their friends? Does jealousy threaten the friendship or make it run hot/cold?

There is an old saying that strangers are just friends we haven’t met. That is very true for my brother. He and I both have the gift of gab, like our mom. We’ll talk to just about anybody and he is amazing at gathering friends along the way. Some turning into more significant friendships and others just a friendship fling along his travels.  He leaves his mark on friends new and old – those sticking around and those just passing through.

Clearly, this friendship thing isn’t just for girls.  I don’t know much about men and how they perceive or value friendship – this is totally subjective based on my observations of R and his pals.  I’ve been lucky enough to join in their fun but often sit back and shake my head ‘cause I’m not sure I always get the joke. But, I admire what they have and respect my sister-in-law, V, for letting those friendships continue to bloom, a sure sign that she values friendship and what it brings to someone’s life.

So, to my big brother, R – I know you have a Big Susan or three. And those guys are the luckiest guys ever to have a Big Susan in you. ‘Cause it’s not just for girls.

Facing second grade - making friends and finding your way.

Tomorrow is my daughter’s first day of second grade. She’s wildly excited and a wee bit nervous.  The open house confirmed a good friend from grade one is in her class and they were thrilled to see each other. Some other girls there seemed to be a bit clique-ish and she was definitely intimated by that.  She knows a few of the boys in the class and likes that – but at almost seven – she’s definitely more interested in the girl bonding.

These other girls have moms that are very active in the PTO (parent teacher cult organization) and clearly have spent lots of time together. My mini-me knows one from last year and temple but she wasn’t so interested in interacting with anyone outside of her little clique. Let’s hope that changes.

Thank goodness her friend, L, got the desk next to hers. They were in class together last year and are in the same Brownie troop. She’s a great girl and has normal parents. All good.

It’s so hard to sit back and watch your child try and connect with new friends.  She was really tickled to hear kids of all ages saying hello to her.  She knows that she’ll have friends in other classes, too but really – it’s all about who you can sit next to.  She’s the youngest in her class and very earnest in wanting to make friends. She still likes to hug her friends hello and goodbye and some of the older (more mature?) girls don’t like that.  I don’t want to hold back mini-me’s natural enthusiasm and know she has to find her own way through what’s acceptable and what’s not in situations like this.

So, along with new pencils, erasers and notebooks – this is the time of year to gather new friends.  She knows some will stick and some will just be classmates. She’s worried about bullies and how to handle them. She wants to be sure she looks cute and has the right supplies. She told me she doesn’t care who is popular and that knows it’s more important to be nice (I really hope she takes that part to heart.)  She knows the only one that has to like her clothes is her (I don’t even have to like it; I just have to approve of it.)

My 47 has not forgotten was 7 was all about and I’m trying to do what I can to make her feel confident and comfortable but let her find her own way.  I never truly fit in but always had a great core group of friends. We may have been outside the inner circle – but we formed our own group.  I think that is pretty much the same for me right now.

My hopes for second grade are simple. May her teacher be strict enough and have a good sense of humor (and a lot of patience.)  May her class be bully free but have one great clown to break things up once in a while. May she be challenged; experience both success and failure.  May she laugh, learn and try new things.  May one or two kids stick and become friends.  And maybe, just maybe she’ll find her own Big Susan.

It's hug your friends day - embrace it!

Today I called the original Big Susan. I wept at the memory of her BFF and my mother.  It’s been two years today that my mother passed away. She was not the kind of mother that was my friend (though I relished and deeply miss our mother-daughter relationship) - but she was an amazing example of how to be a friend and maintain a friendship.  She and her BFF, “big” Susan were friends for 75 years with nary a cross word.

Having something in common may initiate a friendship but it won’t keep it. To be friends, you have to like or love each other beyond that – or in spite of it.  My mother and Big Susan were not alike. There were certainly things they had in common – but they had just as many differences. They embraced those differences in one another (though not necessarily those same differences in others) because their love and respect for one another was more important than being right – or being the same.  They balanced one another and after so many years of friendship, the differences just disappeared.

Not every friendship is fight free. My Big Susan, T, is of a different political persuasion.  We have learned to joke about this and have really open talks about it. I always ask her for her thoughts and to help me understand a perspective that is so different from my own.  We don’t always end up agreeing. She jokes that I’m way more like her than I will ever admit. She may be right – and typing that kills me.

Many of my friends and I don’t worship the big guy (or gal) the same way.  My friends have joined me in assorted Hebrew holidays and I’ve spent more than one Christmas and/or Easter with some of them.  I love a full house at the Jewish holidays and believe I should make sure that everyone who wants to celebrate has a place at my table (and every year I call the original Big Susan for her roast chicken recipe that I follow exactly - but it's never as good as hers). It’s truly a time to put aside differences. And, I’m genuinely touched when friends of other religions invite me and my family to join them in their celebration.

My Big Susan’s M and L belong to the Big Church.  M and I met when her daughter attended the same synagogue preschool as my daughter so clearly, she’s pretty damn open-minded.  I stood up for L (in the infamous dress) when she got married. I got up and sat down and got up and sat down again (I didn’t kneel, ‘cause, well, we Jews don’t get on our knees for anyone) and even walked to the front where the head dude offered me a really kind blessing instead of the cracker.  I plan on being there when M’s daughter makes her kiddie walk in a white dress. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Doesn’t make me less Jewish –it simply lets me love my friends for who they are and what they believe.

Playing on the same team, so to speak, shouldn’t matter when it comes to friends.  For me, that is just one thing about my friends – as inconsequential as whether they are brunette or blonde, short or tall, single or partnered.  We’re friends – not bed partners and who they wish to schtup is entirely up to them. I may mock them  - openly and to their face – as they have done to me, but it won’t have anything to do with whether their partner is a boy or girl. And, I will hold them through heartache, which does not discriminate by gender

Simply sharing a common bond – be it motherhood, religion, where you work or live – doesn’t mean I automatically want to be your friend or that you want to be mine (but really, who doesn’t want to be my friend?)  I have some great friends who are fall into those categories but just as many who do not. 

Shouldn’t friendship open the door to differences? Shouldn’t if offer a safe haven to learn about something - to ask those awkward questions – in an environment in which you are already comfortable? 

So, today in honor of the best friends that I knew – if you get angry, frustrated or annoyed by your friend – take a deep breath and let it go.  If you, as a friend, are being pissy, annoying, demanding or bitchy – breathe deeply and apologize.  If you don’t understand why – ask. If they are truly your friend, they will tell you to pull up a chair, pour you a glass and in the eternal words of my late father, shoot the shit.  It’s what friends do.

Hug your friends. Tell them you love them. Cherish them.  And maybe, just maybe – when you’re old and your vision is bad, your friend will not only tell you about the whisker on your chin, but will pluck it with nary a judgment. Though she’ll probably make fun of you. And, then ask you to return the favor. It won’t matter where you go to church, who shared your bed or what you did for a living. Because at the end of day, it’s the friendship that binds you together – the love, laughter, great times and unconditional support. And, a great pair of tweezers.

FYI – If you every wonder if you can be friends with someone who believes something so different than you – I highly recommend the book, The Faith Club: A Muslim, A Christian, A Jew: Three Women Search for Understanding – a true story about breaking down barriers and being supportive friends despite the differences.

The person I've known the longest

Last week, I got an email from the person I’ve known the longest. That is how we refer to each other.  When she got the birth announcement introducing her to my daughter (almost seven  years ago) she told her daughter, “This is from the person I’ve known the longest.”  When my mother died, I called the person I’ve known the longest.  I recently showed my daughter her picture and said, “This is E. She is the person I’ve known the longest.”

We met when we were 3 or so. She was my first friend.  My first sleepover. Our parents split around the same time and there were many overnights at her house while our parents did what single parents did back then.  Her older brother would torment us while we curled up in her mother’s bed and watched one of about five available TV channels.

We went to kindergarten together and one of my favorite childhood pictures is the two of us, in our Halloween costumes (she was a clown, I was a witch – no comments please), during the traditional parade – one of our mothers nearby with an Instamatic camera to capture the moment.  We celebrated many birthdays –mine in the summer and hers in the fall. I remember her dog and how he loved to grab the hem of our bell bottoms and pull.  Her cat had kittens – often. I was finally allowed to adopt one that was sort of like the demon seed of cats – at least according to my stepfather.  I spent more time at her house than she at mine and I can draw the floor plan as if I was in it yesterday.  I know the cabinet where they kept the snacks was to the left of the sliding door that led to the back. I remember laughing - a lot. I remember her brother annoying us often but he was actually as common a figure in those times as she was.

After elementary school, my family moved and we drifted apart. We would occasionally re-connect and ultimately went to the same high school. We remained friendly. We didn’t often hang out together but I never thought of her as anything less than friend.

I didn't want to go to my 10^th high school reunion. One of the only reasons I went was because the person I’ve known the longest was going. I remember going to her house – it was exactly the same. Her mother was there - she looked and sounded exactly the same. Seeing her was worth the other five hours of reunion bullshit.

We lost touch over the years and once in a great while, would find one another.  Email has made things a bit easier but she is coming into the technological times kicking and screaming.  Still, over the years I was thrilled to see pictures of her wedding and her children. I was thrilled for her success and happiness – and had (and have) a sense of pride that she's my friend.

When we talk, it is safe and familiar.  I recognize her voice. We can pick up where we left off with no thought to the many months or years of no communication. My family asks if I’ve heard from her. They always refer to with her first and last (maiden) name. No idea why but it makes me giggle.

Her son is going off to college, her daughter in high school. She lives on the other side of the country. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her in the past decade.  Our lives have zero in common other than our childhood – and that we are the person the other has known the longest. It’s like a secret club without the handshake.

She finally joined Facebook, where she’ll probably never post and may never have more than five friends. I’m so glad I’m one of them.  After all, she’s the person I’ve known the longest. And, my friend.

Breaking up is hard to do (humming Neil Sedaka is optional)

Breaking up sucks. There is no easy way to do it, receive it or process it.  Breaking up with a friend is often even more vague and difficult.  Infidelity and inability to commit are not the reasons and often, there is no one incident. 

Have you ever ended a friendship? I’m not talking about moving away where you kind of lose touch but continue to exchange holiday cards.  I’m talking about a complete end of any form of communication – nada, nil and nothing.  Some I’ve handled better than others.

I let a friendship go a very long time ago. I had become friends with her quickly and we ended up sharing a house.  She is what my sister would call an NGB – nice girl but……She made some really bad choices that put me in a situation where I would have to lie.  I look back and know that part of being a friend is accepting and respecting differences but sometimes – just sometimes – they are hard to move past. 

Another friendship that sort of melted away was likely mutual.  This friend was wildly needy and I was more than willing to be the sounding board, advice giver and word-smither.  This became exhausting on every level and I often dreaded the conversations. Now, to be fair, this was a good friend and a decent person. She is kind and we shared some really good times.  She made me think about a lot of things that years later have become more important to me. But, we haven’t had any type of communication in 3 years. She needed too much – and I had no patience left to give.

Still another just faded over time and geography. It happens and it hurts though no one is likely to blame. Sometimes, life just happens.

One lost friendship is more painful.  I was friends with her for almost 30 years.  There are many good times in our history and there was a time I would have considered her one of my closest friends.  I knew her family and she mine.  Funny, generous, and kind she also had a sarcastic wit that was often hurtful; an outspoken person, her opinions were presented as fact.  It seemed her world was black and white and I lived in shades of grey.  When I was young, it was easy to laugh but as I got older I found it harder to hear. Was I talked about in the same manner when it was someone else on the phone?  Now, don’t get me wrong – I did speak up and became distinctively less tolerant but would listen and just not provide the sought after response.  Then, my life changed. I was facing something completely unknown – scary and exciting, unexpected and unplanned – an amazingly happy accident.  I should not have been surprised after so many years – and I knew this person very very well – that her response was – well, typical.

So, in April 2004 we had what would be our last conversation. Shortly thereafter, the last email. I don’t think either of us thought it was ending but it did. Neither of us picked up the phone or wrote a note.  Major milestones have come and gone. I was touched when she sent a note of sympathy when my mother passed away almost two years ago.  I sent her one upon the death of her mother-in-law this past year.

Friendships are not always born of similarity and as a result can challenge our most basic beliefs.  When someone starts making choices that are so vastly different than anything you believe, it can test the best of friendships but for ones already tenuous at best, it may be the last straw.  I can honestly say that I miss my lost friends – they have all left their mark and taught me something.  I may not have learned the lesson right away but do believe I’ve made choices that reflect that experience.

My lost friend of 30 years? Today is her birthday. I sent her a note.