Skip to main content

Definition of Friend

Websters Dictionary gives the definition of a friend as this:
Main Entry:
1friend           Listen to the pronunciation of 1friend
Middle English frend, from Old English frēond; akin to Old High German friunt friend, Old English frēon to love, frēo free
before 12th century
1 a: one attached to another by affection or esteem b: acquaintance2 a: one that is not hostile b: one that is of the same nation, party, or group3: one that favors or promotes something (as a charity)4: a favored companion5capitalized : a member of a Christian sect that stresses Inner Light, rejects sacraments and an ordained ministry, and opposes war —called also Quaker
friend·less           Listen to the pronunciation of friendless \ˈfren(d)-ləs\ adjective
friend·less·ness noun
be friends with
: to have a friendship or friendly relationship with

So I guess that kind of sums it up. But for me, it goes a lot further, a lot deeper. I am one of those people ( if you are someone who knows me, you know this, this is for those of you who are just random readers...crossing my fingers I am reaching at least a FEW) who is very content to just be with my husband, my family, or by myself. However, when I DO find someone who can see past my exterior, and see that I am not a witch, or rude, snotty, snooty, or anything else like that, I am very glad.

You see, I like friends. I miss having a close girlfriend, who GETS me, and will call me, just because she's bored and thought of me. I mean, that's just me. Can I live without these friends? Yes. I can and I do. I can name maybe one person aside from my husband and anyone in my family who is close enough to me that I would call them "friend". Aquaintance yes. Friend, no.

I've had several people who have called me friend, or let me call them friend. Most of these people are around for a few short months, only to have some fun and laughs. When things get serious, they hit the road. For example, I had a FRIEND, who was basically around all summer one year, due to how my husband and I lived our lives. When we decided to start going back to church, that friend came over once, and then left. I heard from him about a year later. When I told another friend that we were changing our lifestyle, and following God, he was sad the lifestyle was ending, but was very supportive. I still talk to him today. That's a friend. Someone who supports you even if they don't understand, or they don't approve. Someone who is there when you call.

I have several people who only call me when they feel guilty, or they need advice. I don't call them friends. Some of them are people who have used me, and run me over, only for me to pick myself up, and say, "Okay, I am here if you need me."

Now, don't get me wrong. I am by NO stretch of the imagination a perfect person. I do try to be a good friend.

I take that back. I said I can name one or two people aside from Aaron. I can name three more. But they aren't people. And their love is unconditional. My dogs, Beau, Bubba, and Bugsy, want nothing from me but love and attention. And they will give all they have in return. If I want to play, they'll play. If I want to snuggle, they'll snuggle.

They are down for anything, and there when I need them.

Why can't humans be more like dogs? Always accepting, always supporting. Why do they need to have ulterior motives?

As far as I am concerned, I have all I need. I may long for a girlfriend to call, or whatever. But I don't need one. I have Beau here. All I have to do is say her name.

And my friend comes running, anxious to hear what I have to say.


Popular posts from this blog

Post Partum Depression: The Myth

I used to be like everyone. I figured PPD was mostly just a sad woman with a newborn who's hormones were  out of whack. Then when my son was born, we experienced a pretty traumatic birth and C section. My milk never came in. I started Reglan to help produce milk and it caused PPD. I saw a doctor, got off the meds, stopped trying to breastfeed, simple right? I'm fixed. 
Except it's not that simple. Yesterday my son turned 9 months old and I still struggle daily with PPD. Turns out it wasn't "just the medication". I'm in school full time. I don't work. I'm blessed to have my surprise miracle son, as well as the opportunity to stay home with him. But that's not right either, because PPD doesn't care how blessed you are. This is the silent struggle. The stigma. Sure, once we're all being candid behind our screens we'll talk about it. With strangers. With "internet friends". I mean, if you talk about it with PEOPLE you'll b…

He Will NOT Stop Crying!!

"He will NOT stop crying!"
That phrase characterized my son's first few months of life. Screaming, crying with no relief. Change the diaper, change the clothes, feed him, rock him. NOTHING HELPED!!
And I heard it all. "Oh he's colicky." and "well, he's just an irritable baby" (that gem was from his pediatrician) and "flip him end to end" and "he's just manipulating you" (yes- the four month old baby). 
I was an emotional, confused mess. All I could think was there was SOMETHING wrong with my sweet boy. I KNEW it. And no one would listen except my husband. As a first time mom, albeit a "maternally advanced" mom, you get treated like you just don't know. You get dismissed. But I digress.
Did you know that the sound of an infant's cries are used in torture? I am not surprised. Listening to the boy child cry was pure torture and all I could do was cry with him.
I went round and round with doctors, who wouldn…

Mom Chronicles Day 299

Mom Chronicles Day 299:
When The Boy isn’t walking but proceeds to climb up the ottoman, up the couch, over 247 loads of laundry, over the back of the couch to stare out the window. #adventurous #belay #notyet #startwalkingfirst #itbegins #grabthewine 
By leaving stuffed animals on the floor you will cause The Boy to initiate growling phase 3. Phase 3 includes bending over to eye level with the animal in question and really showing that animals who’s boss. 
If you think you have a fast baby now, I propose Naked Baby Diaper Races. To win, you and your baby must reach the finish line with you chasing while he laughs madly and crawls away with lightning speed. Contestant babies must be only wearing socks. Mom’s must carry the diaper in question.
Peaches for breakfast end with exploding poopat lunch. 
The dishwasher has become the new “It” place for climbers galore. Lounge in the streams of dishwater as Mommy works in the sink above. Just make sure as you are climbing in you don’t bonk. Bonks …