Reason, Season, & Lifetime Friends - Not a Repeat, a Three-Peat

I originally wrote this post on February 12, 2008. I published again, almost exactly 12 months later, on February 1, 2009.

Tonight, I'm publishing it for the third time because it still resonates so deeply with me and remains one of my absolute all time favorite blog posts. Five and a half years after its original publication on Little Merry Sunshine, I find myself going through a Season change. Yes, we are literally transforming from Summer to Fall, but some of my relationships are also transforming. Some are ending and others are just beginning. I see it quite clearly; perhaps more clearly than I've seen it ever before in my life.

So it's through the dual lenses of grieving the relationships ending and hopefulness for the ones just beginning, that I share with you my most fundamental beliefs on relationships of all kinds.

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I have always believed there are three types of friends: Reason, Season, and Lifetime. None of them is bad. In fact, they are all equally important.

Reason Friends come into my life for a specific reason - to help me grow, to help me learn a lesson, etc. Once the reason is over, the friendship comes to its natural end. Sometimes work friends fall into this category. We may become very close to Reason Friends and share many intimate details from our lives, but they are still Reason Friends. I usually mourn their departure, but sometimes it's so gradual neither of us notices until it's too late. I also usually hope that our paths cross again.

Season Friends are in my life for a period of time. Some of my friends from college fall into this category. They were there for those 4 years, but after that Season in our lives was over, we went our separate ways. I always mourn when these friendships end because it means a significant time in my life is over, but it is also a time of exciting opportunity. Like Reason Friends, I hope my life path will cross again with my Season Friends.

Lifetime Friends, however, are my touchstones, my lifeblood. Without them, my life is empty. They are there through the thick and thin, exuberance, and sorrow. No matter what happens in our lives, our friendship remains. Sometimes we aren’t as close as others, but we always come back together. The thing about Lifetime Friends is that we can be apart for a decade or more, but when we finally come back together, it's like time has stood still and we pick up right where we left off. Being a Lifetime Friend has nothing to do with when the friendship began. It could be a 40 year old friendship or a 4 week old friendship.

Please don't misunderstand me. I don't treat any of my friends differently. Most of the time, I don't even consciously know which category they fall into.

Because February is the season of Love (and not just the romantic kind), it reminds me to tell my friends how much I love them. I know I don't say it often enough. But I do really and truly love each of my friends. So this Valentine's Day, I'm sending big hugs and kisses your way.

I've Been Quiet Because I've Been Mourning

You may have noticed that I've been quiet since March 23rd when I posted Betsey and Ross's obituary.

The truth is that I've spent a lot of time crying and missing them. I miss them more than words can begin to say. In fact, even writing those words make me tear up and I've gone all day without crying once. Some days, I do really well and can smile when I talk about them or see their picture. But I haven't been able to read the obituary I wrote since I posted it because to see it is too still too much.

The cards, notes, and comments from friends and readers have helped me. It's amazing how many people really understand that pets are more than just pets. They're family. And, in a way, they're more than that. Unlike some family relationships, my relationship with Betsey and Ross was never complicated. They never judged or said "I told you so." I never felt inferior with them and they didn't care if I put make-up on in the morning. They simply loved unconditionally and let me love them unconditionally. They taught me that.

I picked their ashes up on Saturday morning from March Animal Hospital to bring Betsey and Ross home for the final time. Walking through the vet's door, I burst into tears. Kathy, one of the wonderful receptionists, spotted me and brought me the package containing their ashes, in one urn, and their paw prints. Inside the velvet bag was a card with a story a co-worker had sent me earlier in the week. Each time I read it, the story makes me feel just a little better.

Until we meet again at the Rainbow Bridge . . . 

There is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. 

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had been left behind. 

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly sops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carry him faster and faster. 

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again career the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from life but never absent from your heart. 

Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together . . .

Betsey and Ross are playing together at the Rainbow Bridge. And until we're together again, their ashes live in a special place in my house and their paw prints hang next to the collage of my favorite Betsey and Ross pictures.

Summer 2009: The Summer My Adolescence Died

I don't even want to turn on the news or check out a news website anymore. As my friend Bergsie Tweeted yesterday, "It used to be I'd see a celebrity name listed on Google trends and assume they'd made a sex tape. Now I assume they're dead."

Too many people have died in the last 3 1/2 months. This is a partial list of those with the greatest impact on my life. In one way or another, each of these people has contributed to my life and the woman I've become. I was entertained by them, dreamed of them ringing my doorbell and informing me I was rich, covetted their hair, wished I could dance or sing like them, fantasized about being romanced by them, inspired to be a better person and leave the world better than I found it by them, and loved by them.

Ed McMahon from The Johnny Carson Show, Star Search, & Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes - June 23rd
Farrah Fawcett of Charlie's Angels - June 25th
Michael Jackson, The King of Pop - June 25th
Walter Cronkite, CBS Legend and "The Most Trusted Man in America" - July 17th
Frances Scruggs Paulk Bredemeier, my Nana - July 12th
John Hughes of 16 Candles, Breakfast Club, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off - August 6th
Eunice Kennedy, humitarian - August 11th
Senator Ted Kennedy - August 25th
Patrick Swayze, Johnny Castle of Dirty Dancing - September 14th
Mary Travers of Peter, Paul & Mary - September 16th

I truly wish I'd bought stock in Kleenex earlier this summer. I'd be sad, but at least I would have made some money.

It's Been A Month Since Nana Died and I Know I'll Be Okay

It's been a month since Nana died. As I told a friend last night, my world has been turned upside down and inside out. I don't know which way is up or where I'm going most of the time.

A month ago I felt numb and I had 10 million things to do for a two visitations, two Celebration of Life services, and a burial, dealing with two funeral homes, two churches, and a lot of family across a bunch of states. On top of that, I was headed straight to the Mary Kay Seminar in Texas 30 seconds after we buried Nana. Okay, it was the next day, but it felt like 30 seconds later.

I didn't have time to be sad or begin to grieve. Yes, I was sad and I did have moments that were unbelievably difficult. The first time I walked into the sanctuary at Crystal Beach Community Church after Mom and I met with Pastor Susie, my eyes filled with tears. So much of my life has taken place in that church that walking into it without Nana even when it was empty was filled with emotion. Driving by my step-grandfather's house next door to the church brought back 30+ years of memories. Walking out to the end of the pier reminded me of all the sunsets I watched with Nana over the years.

It all really hit me for the first time though on Nana's birthday when I arrived at the church before Mom and Dave to set up for the reception. I walked into the sanctuary alone and saw Nana in her casket up by the pulpit. I saw the pew she sat in for 50 years, the one in memory of my grandfather, Jesse Paulk. It felt empty without her sitting in the pew. Although it is the 5th pew from the front, Mom, Dave, and I sat there during the service. There simply wasn't anywhere else we could sit.

I can't say I remember all the details of any of Nana's services. Mom and I both spoke. The music and the readings were beautiful. Many people told me touching stories of their time with Nana.

A month later, I'm in full grieving mode. The tears arrive when I least expect them and mostly with little warning. Fortunately, I'm usually able to choke them back when it's not appropriate to cry (i.e., when I'm with friends or clients). There's only one friend I've really cried in front of and I'm grateful beyond words for him. Usually I tough it out.

Yesterday, I met with a new client who shared with me that she had just moved to Arlington Heights from Florida and when I asked where, she replied Tarpon Springs. She didn't know Nana though. As I picked my jaw up off the table, she told me her son was born on July 12th. Wow. What a small world.

The good news is that last night I reached a point where I could tell a story about Nana and laugh at how cute and funny it was without crying. Later, I stood outside watching the Perseid Meteor Shower and upon seeing an enormous meteor shoot from north to south across the sky leaving a trail with my naked eye, I spontaneously jumped up and down cheering and I felt myself genuinely smile for the first time in a month. It was only moments later that I realized it was midnight and I was standing alone in my backyard. It didn't matter though. I love seeing those miracles of nature happen and the smile remained for quite awhile. That is until an hour later when I suddenly erupted in tears again.

I'll be okay, but this grief thing is a bitch.

My Favorite Things

This isn't exactly the version of My Favorite Things that I was looking for. I was hoping to find the video of that terrific scene in The Sound of Music where Maria is singing My Favorite Things with the kids in her bedroom during the thunderstorm and they're all dancing around until the Captain interrupts them. Unfortunately, I didn't find it.

I love My Favorite Things because it always makes me smile and cheers me up, which I need tonight after the day week month I've had. Listening to it tonight dried up my most recent tears, for a few minutes anyway.

As I explained to my grief counselor last week, I just want to feel like me again. She explained to me that I won't ever really go back there. Grief changes us. So a new me will emerge. Okay, but when? When will it stop being so hard to find a smile? When will I stop being sad all the time, except for when I pretend I'm not? When will I be able to stop pretending I'm okay and I'm happy for real?

I know there are no answers to my questions except that time heals all wounds. But I want answers. I guess I'll settle for a few minutes of smiling every now and again and hope that the distance between now and again diminishes over time.

I've Been MIA on LMS

You may have heard . . . my Nana died. Almost 3 weeks ago. It seems like a lifetime ago right now. BND and AND . . . Before Nana Died and After Nana Died. The world kind of seems to have stopped.

Since her passing on July 12th, I've been to Florida, Texas, Mississippi, back to Texas, and finally home. I was in Florida and Mississippi for the Celebration of Life services and burial of Nana and I was in Texas (the first time) so I could go to Mississippi (more on that in another post) and the second time for the annual Mary Kay Seminar. I've been back in Chicago since Saturday night and am feeling like I'm just going through the motions.

I've started multiple blog posts, but none of the topics really excite me. I couldn't even write about Sarah Palin quitting on July 26th! I've started to write thank you notes, but writing them makes Nana's death entirely too real and permanent to me. I've worked some, but feel like I'm not really in a place where I can make other people feel pampered. I've gotten one really good night of sleep, but the rest have been hit or miss.

Yes, I've put on a pretty face when I've needed to this week. Last week it was easy - I didn't have one moment alone and believe me, Disneyland's got nothing in comparison to a Mary Kay Seminar when it comes to being the Happiest Place On Earth (TM). I've hung out with and talked to a couple friends and I've seemed okay.

Until today. Today I've pretty much been a mess of tears. I thought the tears were gone. I thought that when I left Batesville I was done crying. I thought I would get back to Chicago and easily jump right back into my routine with both feet. I thought that having a B.A. in Psychology and having read On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross would have prepared me. I thought that having already buried two grandparents and a cousin when we were kids would have made this easier.

Everyone keeps telling me I need to find a grief support group because I won't just magically be done grieving. I've actually done some searching, but all I've done is talked to voice mail and, in the one instance I spoke to someone, learned that I can't join a group until September. That seems strange to me. As I said to the woman on the phone, I didn't realize I had to schedule grief. I don't think she thought I was funny and I wasn't trying to be. I just didn't understand that these things were done in series and you couldn't just start going, but had to commit to an entire series and start when the series started. I'll keep searching because too many people have told me going to a grief counseling group will make it all better.

Maybe now that I've written about how difficult this is, it will get easier. Maybe it's like anything else: the first step is admitting I've got a problem. I hope so. I miss feeling like me and I hate feeling like I'm MIA in plain sight and on LMS.