March 22

In many ways, my relationship with Kathy can be challenging. We have different needs and different understandings of what close, genuine friendship should look like, and those truths sometimes make communication hard. But I love her and I try because I think she is worth the work and the introspection.

I say all of that because though today was good and made my heart happy at times, it also featured more difficult moments. It began with late-morning coffee on the couch in her living room as a light snow fell --and briefly accumulated-- outside. I shared some truths that made me cry and she responded by coming closer and putting a hand on my knee which --given her need for personal space-- was no inconsequential gesture. And she said some words that were small but meant so much to me: When I lamented not having a sister of my own, she responded with 'you have me.'

We eschewed getting dressed and watched a movie --Mansfield Park this time-- while munching on handfuls of peanut butter M&Ms from the ginormous party-size bag I sent her via Amazon last week when I thought I'd be rescheduling this trip. And that was well and good. (And delicious.) But then the day took a left turn of sorts when a difference of opinion left me feeling sad and her feeling defensive; I started to retreat but instead parked myself on the bar stool in the kitchen so we could hash it out. Which we did, in a way, at least. It was far from a perfect exchange but I think a little understanding was gained. And then we took a walk around the neighborhood and remarked on housing styles and unusual front door colors and the like, and then we had Starbucks via Target and we drove around to see houses she'd once considered buying and did (another) drive-by of the house she is buying before we returned to her (current) home, where we ate a late dinner and then did face masks she bought at Target (which she promptly washed off because it hurt; mine, conversely, was all good. Another way that we're different).

And then we sat in her room and I brushed her hair and then she brushed mine and we talked in hushed tones about important things. And then we prayed together --because honestly that's one of my favorite things to do-- and I asked if I could put my head on her shoulder for five minutes (because it's what I needed and part of me thinks that maybe a very small part of her maybe kinda-sorta needed it, too, even if she didn't know it). And then once the five minutes ticked by, I was off to bed, and that's where I lie right now.

So what's my point here with this long, rambling message? Well, part of it is to refute the notion that only easy relationships with others who are just like us can be good ones. I've never thought that was true. It is true that I get frustrated and hurt sometimes because we don't see eye to eye, but I've also grown more in the past few years than I did in the entire decade before. There are lots of reasons why that's the case, but having her in my life is one of them. So today, I'm thankful for the good times and laughter and the ways she challenges me. And I'm thankful that we don't give up on each other --even when it's hard to keep taking those steps forward and giving up would be the easier path to take-- and that we keep pushing and pulling and bending and genuinely trying to understand and honor our differences.