Every morning for five days a week, I plunge into the stressful early morning rush of preparing my children for school immediately after waking up. I cook breakfast and pack lunches, lay out school uniforms, and give out reminders–from ID cards to allowance.
I’m mostly calm doing all these but there are times when I can’t help but shout, scold, groan at the slowpokes that are my children who seem to move slower as the time for departure nears.
Then they’re gone and everything gets so quiet, I immediately miss them. But only for a few seconds. Haha
What I love about my early mornings after my kids have gone is getting together with my women friends; although they’re not blood relatives, they’re the closest you can get to sisters without the added burden. *wink*
Ours is a communion of sort; it’s a sharing that’s not just intensely physical but spiritual as well. No, we don’t fall on bended knees and pray for hours. Nothing of the sort. We have breakfast together and share our joys and sorrows. They say a burden shared is a burden eased, and that is exactly what we do for one another.
They say you get to know yourself from the eyes of others and I’ve come to understand myself more by what they thought of me before we become close and how they view me now.
Aloof and too sparing with my smiles were how they commonly described me. It’s true, of course. I present that front because I’m only really comfortable with people I like. But I am myself with those I’m already close to, being able to joke around and laugh out loud.
They tell me that I’m a good friend and that is something I can admit about myself. I am deeply loyal and I stand up for the people I love. I think nothing about offering my help if it is needed.
Something that we have in common is we don’t rush to conclusions and often times weigh heavily on the rightness and wrongness of things. From knowing each other’s problems, we’ve come to learn that there are no easy answers.
The physical side of our grouping is a shared quest for good health. We do zumba some days, strength training on others. We’ve cooked up plans to go running on weekends but still has to see them through.
I used to be a self-contained entity of one. That is, I’ve never really felt this need to get close to those outside my immediate family circle. While I have close friends I go out, I’ve always kept something of myself from them. My husband used to be my sounding board, and although he was not a very good one, he did fulfill the listening requirement well. When I whine or complain, he grunts or give monosyllabic answers, preferring to give me free rein over the talking until the very end when I get some advise about just letting it go or not putting too much stock into a minor thing. It’s not that this didn’t work for me and, if my new group should disband, won’t work for me again. It will.
There is, though, something very different about sharing with people in the very same situation of life, though the circumstances vary. We’re women and mothers and wives (though one of us is a widow). We’re primarily in charge of raising and disciplining our children and we worry to death over them. No one understands you better than the people who’ve faced your fears and concerns. A husband is just not the same.
I see what I’ve been missing and I now totally get what support system means. I’m lucky I’ve found them and I wish everyone else has what I have, a group free from one-upmanship and spite. Though our bond may be friendship and not blood, ours really is a sisterhood in every other sense of the word.