You Find Out Who Your Friends Are

I have truly found out who my friends really are over the past year ~ Not everyone can handle the harsh reality of brain surgery. Some smile politely ~ a forced smile creeps across their face ~ I can tell that they just want to turn & run ~ Fear can paralyze a person. I totally understand that some people just don't have the coping skills to be comfortable with someone else's pain. Although I understand this ~ it's still painful knowing that I won't be able to fully share this journey with some of my most adored friends. It is part of the grieving process ~ letting friends go, knowing that after my 'brain is fixed' ~ they will come out of hiding ~ once the turmoil has settled.

On the other hand, friends I thought were gone forever have suddenly come back into my life. This has brought great joy to my heart and has returned a smile to my face. There is nothing in the world like the feeling you get when you talk with a lifelong friend who has been absent for far too long. You pick up where you last left off ~ it's like no time has passed.

The reactions that I have gotten from friends has been as varied as the flavors of Jelly Belly jelly beans. My co-workers don't miss one opportunity to make a brain joke or make up some new lyrics with the word 'brain' in it ... think 'Blame It On The Brain' to the tune of a famous Milli Vannilli song. In my true sarcastic form ~ I retaliate with idle threats to send FedEx the left over brain parts from my surgery if they don't stop making fun of me and my big brain! So ~ my brain is bigger than yours ~ deal with the facts ~ I can't help it ~ I was born this way.

I have one friend who is truly a soul sister $:)$ ~ she has been my sounding board and my comic relief. She has offered to sit by my side and hold my hand during and after surgery as long as I have a single, wealthy, good looking McDreamy Neuro-surgeon. True story! Seriously ~ when I have told her about yet another insurance roadblock she has threatened to come up here and do some negotiating on my behalf. She asks me on a daily basis how I feel ~ she doesn't ever want the sugar coated answer ~ she really wants to know the truth.

I am convinced that God puts people in our lives so that we can handle life ~ I just couldn't do it without their support. There are sooo many of you out there ~ you know who you are ~ Thanks for listening to me ramble on about doctor appointments, vertigo, headaches, brain farts ~ it all sounds so boring after a years time, I am sure of that! I have really been mulling over Oriah Mountain Dreamer's The Invitation lately ~ Her message is raw and real ~ I am discovering what sustains me when everything else shrivels away...

The Invitation byOriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.