Thanks

After we returned from our honeymoon in 2007, I loved spending time with my family and friends, specifically to hear all the wedding stories that I was too oblivious to notice. One story, in particular, stands out in my memory.

I had always had a relatively complicated relationship with my younger sister, known in the family to be a world traveler and a fiercely loyal friend. The demise was in no way her fault; let's just say that I was a bit stupid in my youth and didn't understand the full repercussions of my actions, namely how they would effect my family. That said, it turns out that she wept -- and I mean, bawled -- all the way through my entire wedding. And, as she told me about this through spits of laughter, we agreed that neither of us knew that she even liked me that much.

We still chuckle about that to this day.

Yet, the joke has rung even more true over the last few weeks, not only in regard to my family, but also in consideration of the friends I didn't even know that I had. I have received notes and texts and love from friends I've known and loved since childhood, yet haven't seen in 10+ years. I have gotten emails from pastors of churches I don't attend. I have received meals from colleagues I haven't even met. People whom I don't work with on a regular basis have bought gifts, cried tears, and extended friendship that has, as cliche' as it sounds, meant the world to me over the last weeks.

And I didn't even know they liked me that much.

I've never thought of myself as a particularly "likable" person. I am far too blunt, too straightforward. I talk too much and often, I say strangely awkward things. I am passionate about literature and philosophy. No one thinks about literature and philosophy this much. And yet, when the shit hits the fan as it has over the last weeks, people come out of the wood work - some because they have to, but most because they actually seem to care.

I feel...blessed. I feel empty sometimes. As thankful as I am for friends, I want my sons. But, I have to be realistic: that is not an option. It was never an option for my sons. And yet, seeing as I cannot hold my children, I will hold onto the friendships I've found, even in the most unlikely places.