Friendship

Having had cancer, as I say until everyone's sick of hearing it, I feel rather vulnerable and anxious when I'm ill, as for the last few days. At last, though, I'm feeling better and have got up and dressed for the first time in a week. While I fully intended to walk the dogs who are distinctly tired of staying indoors, I now find myself too tired to do so. They'll have to wait till tomorrow. But at least I'm up and about again!

Having spent four days with nothing better to do that to contemplate life, once I'd got over feeling sorry for myself - having flu is miserable! - I began to ponder the nature of friendship. In my experince, somehow, friends seem to appear in your life when you need them. They may be new friends or old friends, but they always arrive at exactly the right time, even if you don't recognise this when it happens.

Although I have felt no twinge of remorse about moving to my current home, often, since my diagnosis, I have regretted leaving behind the friends who helped me through divorce and the death of my mother. I find myself thinking, "I wish x were closer so that they could drop in for a chat" or, when I'm ill, "I wish x were closer so I could ask them to do my laundry/go shopping for me/tidy up/etc" (strike out those which do not apply). And then, just as I'm beginning to drown in self-pity, I receive an email from one of my old neighbours, or an old and dear friend appears in a chat window while I'm fiddling with my Facebook account. Somehow, they always seem to know when they're needed - and sometimes, if I really think about it, I realise that if only I swallowed my pride and stopped trying to be totally independent, they probably wouldn't mind being asked for help - in fact, they might even be as pleased as I am when a friend asks me to be of service!

Yesterday, while I was having a really good wallow in self-pity because I was stuck in bed, ill, having had to cancel meeting up with my godmother and her daughter, the doorbell sounded. I grumbled my way into my dressing gown, snarled my way to the door, muttered about people who sell double glazing and disturb the poorly and, when I opened it, to my huge surprise and pleasure, my godmother's daughter was there. She and my godmother had gone out of their way and brought me some flowers to brighten up my day. I was extremely touched by such thoughtfulness.

My godmother's family and mine have known each other for three generations and they've looked after me well for the last few years, but it isn't just old friends who I've found to be a huge support in the last few years. Yesterday, for instance, I received messages from an old neighbour and two very dear friends of long-standing (more than a decade) and from two more recent friends (within the last 5 years) as well as a phone call from someone I shared a flat with 20 years ago. All of them at a physical distance from me - a couple of them many thousands of kilometres away - but all of them have supported me through bad times and good over the years. As I write this entry, too, I'm feeling very humbled. By huge coincidence, as I was writing about the importance of old friends and new friends, my phone rang; one of my current neighbours was calling to say they hadn't seen me for a few days and wanted to make sure all was well. Friends really do appear in your life when you need them. I may sometimes murmur a little about small communities, but it's good to know that they care enough to make that effort to check up on your welfare.

Thought for the day, then: I must remember that I can ask for help, whether that help be in the form of an email or phone call from friends separated by distance or from more immediate friends, old and new. What's the worst that could happen other than me swallowing my pride?