Wednesday, July 27, 2011

The Hands of Friendship

"Sorrow makes us all children again--destroys all differences of intellect.  The wisest know nothing."         

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

I've been thinking a lot about Ezra, obviously, and also thinking about my friendship with his mom. We roomed together as college freshmen... over 25 years ago.

At the memorial service and all this week, people have been commenting on what a good friend I've been to her through all of this.

How could I not be?  How could I call myself a friend and then turn away or not show up?  No matter how hard it is, it's what you do when you're a friend. 

You show up.

I think of the lyrics to Jewel's song, "Hands":
I won't be made useless
Won't be idle with despair
I'll gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear
My hands are small, I know, but they're not yours
They are my own. 
They're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken... 
The song concludes, "In the end, only kindness matters."  All you can bring to a friend's life is light and the choice not be made useless, even by life's sheer senselessness.

When he was little and we would visit, I'd ask, "So what are we going to do today, Ezzie?", and he'd say, "Play, play, PLAY, Missy!!!"

So on the afternoon before he died, I leaned down and whispered, "Missy's here, like always. And when you feel better, we'll play, play play.  Like we always do."

I miss him horribly.  I can't believe he's simply no longer in the world, my poor, sweet little friend.

It's obvious, but this is the song that always reminds me of my best friend and our friendship. 

I have no words to comfort her and I wish I did.

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Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, "Life is short, but there is always time for courtesy."