Friendships: Standing the Test of Time?

Even as a young child, I was a bit of a loner. My mom would realize that she hadn't seen me for hours, but I was playing contentedly alone in my room. Barbies, dolls, even fashioning a board game where I could play solo could entertain me for hours. Having twin sisters two years older, I was often the odd-man-out and playing by myself was the norm for me.

Certainly I have had several friends over the years, but I am constantly struck by the ebb and flow of friendships. When I hear of friendships spanning 40 and 50 years (or longer), it makes me a little sad. While I still have a group of really strong friendships spanning 25 years since college graduation--Rachel, Karen, Robin, Donata and Laura--I miss the friendships that I thought would last for a lifetime, but did not survive.

There is a saying that friendships are either for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Unfortunately, the older I get, the more my friendships seem to fall into a 'season or reason'. Sometimes it has been a due to life circumstances: Marriages, divorces, child rearing, careers. I have found that some of my friends only needed me for a season (often when they were without a spouse) and once they were married, maintaining my friendship was no longer a priority. As a seasoned married person, I understand the new-ness of relationships and the new-ness of marriage is an exciting time. I gladly give my friends space and time to really bond with their new life partner. But when they no longer return my phone calls or accept social invitations, then it's hard to accept that most likely it's the end of that relationship. Some people might refer to them as 'fair weathered friends'.  I try not take it personally, although sometimes I can wallow in the loss. I'm just being real.

But I've also seen them wither when our lives have taken a dramatic turn away from what used to be commonalities--such as going away to college, getting married and having children. Even me becoming a stay-at-home mom has separated me from my career-focused friends--ever causing a rift in the common threads that kept us bonded earlier in our lives.  Even religious differences have made keeping lifetime friends more of a challenge because my Christianity is a large part of who I am, and I naturally gravitate to those who are like-minded. Not that it is impossible to stay friends when your lives have definitely taken different paths; but I do think it takes far more effort to find that common ground.

The most difficult loss in friendship for me occurred in the last 5 years. It was a slow disintegration that is all but gone now. And we had been the best of friends for over 20 years. Why this happened is not an easy question to answer. Honestly, there were hurtful words exchanged, unforgiveness and the inability to find that aforementioned common ground. Over the years, my life lead me in the direction of wife, mother, volunteer, and published writer and her life went a completely different road. I am still in the process of trying to find peace about all the circumstances that lead us to this place. Unfortunately, I will never find those answers. But I miss her.

My cousin Jenny shared with me that her best friend and (dis)maid of honor called her up one month after the wedding and said that they could no longer be friends. When Jenny inquired why, she was told that it was because Jenny had everything that she had ever wanted and she was jealous. Right or wrong, justified or not, at least there was closure.

Sometimes just finding a place of forgiveness of the friends we feel hurt us, betrayed us, or let us down is the only way to heal. We don't always get the answers we are seeking--and we find ourselves disappointed that another friendship 'bit the dust'. Realizing that we were part of that disintegration is part of the process when we need to extend that forgiveness to ourselves. Losing a friend is rarely all on the other person. We need to take our own personal responsibility in it where appropriate.

For me, I have redefined the word 'friend' and instead of always looking for the elusive answers as to why so many of my friendships have come and gone, I cherish the women (and a few men who are also friends with my husband) who ARE still in my life. Admittedly, I am more guarded and do not seek out my female friends as much in my life now than in my youth: Part natural course of life and partly by choice

My main focus is my husband, my children, my church home, my volunteer work--and of course, my writing-- first and foremost. My friends are the bonus part of my life. The icing on the cake, if you will.  I hope they will endure the test of time because I treasure each one. And I hope they also treasure me.

Bone Marrow Buddy Brothers

As first appeared for Patch.com in my community

In late April my husband Tony received a call from our friend Kathy in Ohio. Bill, her husband, was about to celebrate a milestone birthday, his 50th, and had hoped Tony could send a special greeting from St. Louis. Instead, my husband surprised Bill by making the trip out to see him over his birthday weekend. The fact was this was not just any milestone birthday; this was one that almost wasn't meant to be.

Eight years earlier Bill had Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) and his last hope for survival was a bone marrow donation. His three brothers were the best hope for a match. Despite a 25 percent chance, none of them qualified. Bill was out of options and at the mercy of finding a donor through the National Marrow Registry.  Because he had registered through his employer about seven years earlier, my husband Tony became that hope.

And after long, step-by-step process, Tony was found to be a match 'closer than a brother', more perfect than the hospital and National Registry had ever dreamed possible. Bill not only went into remission, but he is healthy and living a life he feared would come to an end only years earlier.
Doctors look for a donor who matches their patient's tissue type, specifically their human leukocyte antigen (HLA) tissue type. Your immune system uses these markers to decipher between good and bad cells. The closer the match between the patient's HLA markers and yours, the better for the patient. The intent is to replace the 'bad' marrow with 'good' marrow.

Have you ever considered registering to become a donor? Since there are few area registration drives, the simplest way would be to go to this link. It registers you with the National Marrow organization.
According to the National Registry, approximately one in every 540 members will be a match and have the opportunity to donate  You may never be identified as a match for someone needing a transplant or you may find that your HLA tissue type is more common and you are potentially a more universal match.  By registering, you are NOT committing yourself to donating if you are a match. You always have the option to 'opt-out' if you were asked.

There are actually two types of donation methods. The first is a surgical procedure done under general or regional anesthesia that withdrawals liquid marrow using needle punctures from the back of the pelvic bone. Since my husband was donating for a man in similar stature to his own, he donated the maximum amount, which amounted to about 50 punctures in all. If donating for a child or a smaller stature woman or male, less marrow is needed and the procedure is less involved.

Peripheral blood stem cell donation is a non-surgical procedure done in an outpatient clinic. Through a process called apheresis, a donor's blood is removed through a needle in one arm and passed through a machine that separates out the blood-forming cells. The remaining blood is returned to the donor through the other arm. In addition to donating marrow, my husband has donated apheresis numerous times through the American Red Cross. Instead of donating whole blood, they considered him a perfect candidate for this procedure, which can take several hours.  There was no particular recipient in mind with each of these donations, but it is held at a blood bank until needed. It is my understanding that not everyone would be a good candidate to donate the peripheral stem cells.

Tony would be the first to say that donating the bone marrow for this complete stranger changed his life forever. After Bill's amazing recovery and mutual agreement to learn of each others identities after the mandatory one year waiting period passed, they became best friends. Actually, they are more than that. With Tony's marrow coursing through Bill's blood, they share the same DNA. They are closer than friends: They are brothers. Blood brothers.

A Friend for All Time

There were lots of tears this morning as I was preparing my sweet daughter to start her school week.

My 1st grader Elise is troubled by a friend using a nickname in the classroom that is embarrassing her--and her friend won't stop despite Elise's kind plea. Another friend called her 'stupid' and make a few other rude remarks. She did not want to go to school today because of them.

My heart aches for her hurting heart. But I cannot solve these issues for her. The reality is that throughout her entire life, navigating the waters of friendships is an on-going process. Having 'mean' kids verbally assault her is unfortunately part of growing up.

Every Wednesday afternoon for Adam, and every Thursday morning for Elise, I meet with a small group of praying moms and we claim scripture over them using the format of Moms in Prayer International (formerly Moms In Touch). We take an attribute of God and read scriptures about God's love, his patience, his faithfulness, his protection; Him being our helper, a miracle worker, our confidence, our rock, our foundation, our hope, our peace. The list goes on and on. Whether encouraging or correcting, I tell my children over and over who they are in Christ.

As Elise came to me with tears in her eyes about being called stupid, I reminded her of what God says about her: She is fearfully and wonderfully made. She is made in the image of God, She is God's delight. I tell her she is smart, kind, funny, and a good friend. No longer crying, but still looking dejected, I sent her off to school, encouraging her to let her teacher or counselor help her mend those relationships.

Her counselor called me just a few moments ago to tell me how articulate Elise was in explaining her problem. She was able to lovingly explain to these young friends on how her feelings were hurt. And the most amazing, incredible, sweet and God-breathed thing happened.

She recited back to the counselor that she did not deserve those words. That 'my mom said I am sweet, kind, loving and smart because that is what God thinks of me, too.' Yes, she is living in this world, but she is not of this world. And she knows it. And I am proud of her declaring the truth; sharing the gospel, and yes, listening to me. Maybe I am impacting her life more than I thought.

Thank you, God, for the encouragement that I needed today. When so many things can go wrong--so many things left unsaid--and the busyness of life to make us forget to take the time to build up our children (not just correct them), you revealed yourself in a mighty way.

Amen and Amen.

Teaching Our Girls to be Women

Last night, while my daughter was enjoying a play date, I decided to hang out with her mom, Anne, who I like a lot. Anne and I are trying to make an earnest connection between our daughters, who are both in first grade and have known each other since they were 3 years old. We want to hang out more and our daughters are a perfect excuse.

Anne and I are living parallel lives in many respects. Our husbands work for the same company, we are approximately the same age, we've both been married about the same amount of time and we both have sons in 6th grade and daughters in 1st grade. But that is probably where the similarities end. In many respects we are very different. She is liberal, while I am more conservative; she struggles with organization and structure, while I thrive on it. Anne is also more 'girly' than I am in respect to how we dress and do our hair and makeup. I definitely would say that she is more glamorous, and I tend to go with the more natural look.

For the last year, Anne has asked me occasionally if she can give me a makeover She saw potential in me and thought I could accentuate my features more. I have repeatedly turned her down for one reason or another--nothing personal. Just for whatever reason, I haven't been cooperative. Until last night. For about an hour she played with makeup and did my hair, even finding a cute dress that fits my petite frame in her laundry room.

That is a picture of me:  BEFORE. Albeit the picture is a little washed out, I still say it represents me pretty well. For being smack dab in the middle of my 40s, I think I am aging well. I am certainly no raving beauty, but I definitely find that I am aging better in my 40s than I did in my 20s. Here is how I looked AFTER Anne took hold of me.

The picture turned out a little dark, but I definitely think she did a nice job really changing my look. I hardly recognize myself. I actually really do like my hair, which I was not expecting too. The makeup was a little heavy for an everyday look for me, but I want to learn some of the tricks Anne used last night and buy some new makeup to my collection to help achieve this look for a fancy night out. I could potentially learn from Anne what I did not learn from my mom or any other role model.

It was while we were in the midst of the makeover that she and I were talking about being wives and mothers and we both agreed that for the most part, we don't feel like we learned a lot from our mothers on some basic 'womanly' stuff. She and I both agreed that we both have areas of strength and weakness but wonder if we learned it 'nature' versus 'nurture' or taught ourselves. Together, Anne and I would make a pretty complete woman, we joked.

My mom was very neat and tidy while I was growing up, so I think she modeled for me how I wanted to keep house.  As an elementary aged child, I was somewhat of a slob, but then I could spent hours cleaning my room from top to bottom without being asked. As a teenager, I was known to surprise my mom by cleaning the house for 4-5 hours while she was on a date with my dad. As a pre-driving teen, I would spend some Saturdays cleaning house with her, blasting our favorite Neil Diamond albums from the stereo. Gradually, I became interested in 'keeping house'--and really got the itch to keep my surroundings neat and organized when I lived away at college, sharing a small dorm room. Keeping it neat was the only way to survive such a small space.

However, with the exception of the occasional baking, I did not learn to cook from my mom. She modeled being a good cook for our family, preparing dinner almost every night. I cannot recall a time when I really helped her, except for grating cheese or cracking some eggs. My mad cooking skills was really a hands-on learn-by-necessity trade as a new wife and mom.  She also never taught me to iron or sew. My mom had amazing sewing ability. She could fix zippers, buttons, hem lines, etc. She also used to make doll and Barbie clothes, which proves she was very gifted. Ironically, before my mom died, she taught my husband how to use a sewing machine when we inherited my grandma's. Since Tony was in charge of sewing on cub scout badges, I think he was motivated to learn something other than the by-hand methodology. I, on the other hand, can only sew on a button. Other than that, I defer to my uber-talented sewing husband. At least one of us knows how.

As amazing as I think my mom was as a mom and how she exemplified being a model wife, I don't think she trained me in how to be a woman. We talked about The Birds and The Bees but I don't recall her showing me how to apply makeup, do my hair, or how to dress for my petite frame. And, looking back, I can see why I am satisfied with my 'natural' look. I never learned differently. But this lack of training did affect my self-esteem and has impacted many decisions I have made into adulthood, even into my 40s.




Every "Mom and Me' cooking class we take together, or when we complete a chore together, I know I am preparing her to be a woman. Maybe it may be a stereo-typical woman--a feminist may say I am being too old-fashioned in my intentions. But old-fashioned is good in my book. If she chooses a career path that lends itself to her being single and choosing to not have children, the time I have spent with her doing 'womanly' things does not seem wasted to me. It will still create a confidence and a sense of being a well-rounded person. She can bring that confidence into every area of her life.

Even now, I see this gradual shift in her opinion of herself. She wants to grow her hair out from bangs, so taking care of her hair is mandatory at this time. She fixes her own hair every morning, experimenting with different looks. Elise is also intentional in what she wants to wear each day and I see a more feminine side coming out in her. And she is only 7. 

I guess my main point is that the make-over last night really stirred up some unresolved angst about what I was lacking as a teen, and how that lack of self-confidence has manifested itself over and over in various ways into my 40s. Hopefully, I will be a better mom, wife, and person because of it. And help my daughter love herself as much as I love her.

Moving into the 21st Century: One Cassette Tape at a Time

This past October my husband and I did a mini remodel of our house--namely our family room and our master bedroom. The bedroom was always the plan, but the family room was the 'bonus'. While shopping for bedroom furniture, a sofa called to us. We decided to spend a little less on the bedroom set and also buy the sofa, an end table and a coffee table. Free financing for 6 months When our tax refund arrives, we'll pay off the furniture. Sweet!

It was our desperately old bedroom that needed a romantic make-over. Not only was our queen mattress too small, but we figured it was probably 20 years old. Two bad qualities for someone who lives with a sleep disorder.  Free financing a very expensive bed for 3 years justified the amount we paid for it. Especially since we seemed to like to keep our mattresses for 20 years. Our end result was beautiful.

Since I am the anti-hoarder, I loved the ability to purge and clean both rooms until they were sparkly new and organized. Which is actually the point of my blog. I uncovered a dirty, er, dusty little secret in the process. For 7 years I had about 100 cassette tapes neatly tucked away under our coffee table, hidden from view. I was confronted with the reality that I needed to do something with them.

For anyone who might stumble upon my blog and be under the age of 20, cassette tapes were after 8 Track tapes and phonograph records and before CDs. Rather like VHS tapes versus DVDs.  But here's the thing. I did not just throw them out. In the words of Dr. Seuss, I would not, could not throw them here or there, I would not, could not throw them anywhere. Least of all the trash. The reality, sad or not, is that there is a lot of great 70s and 80s music on those tapes. At least half of them were store bought, but a surprising number of them were homemade mix tapes. Just thinking about the money I used to spend back in the 80s buying the 'high quality' Memorex tapes makes me shudder a little. In fact, I recall spending hours taping songs directly from the radio--and having to record my phonograph records onto tapes when stereos no longer came with the turn-table. That was a sad day in the history of my life.  Smart move sound quality-wise but a lot of work. And, though dusty, I have to admit that occasionally I did pull out a tape and play it either in my 2008 van, which still has a tape player, or on one of our two stereo systems, which are just as old as the tapes themselves. Those tapes were not necessarily forgotten, but rather like Monica's closet from Friends.  I figured if they were out of view then they did not need addition. But with the fresh family room, I needed to address the tape collection.

I listened to each tape, many of them older Christian music. Most of those tapes were mixed tapes that my co-worker Dan at the utility company made me. He was our custodian and worked nights. Cleaning my cubicle, he found my stash of Amy Grant, Wayne Watson and Steven Curtis Chapman tapes that I would play quietly as I worked. That sparked a great conversation of our devotion to Christ and to the transforming power of Christian music. It was through Dan that I was introduced to Derek Floyd, Scott Wesley Brown, and David Meece. Dan also quadrupled my Wayne Watson collection, and added to other favorites like Matthew Ward, Larnell Harris, Petra and Kathy Troccolli. Playing these classic artists from the early 90s made me miss that music era again.

Living where we do, I am fortunate that we have an amazingly wonderful Christian music station. And for 20 years I have been a faithful listener through its name changes and signal changes. But their music changes as well, and while contemporary, I wish they would go back to playing some 'oldies'. I love Chris Tomlin, Jeremy Camp, Casting Crowns, MercyMe and Newsboys as much as anyone. But the earlier music is so powerful, too. It is a shame that with the resurgence of 80s music on any radio station in the country, my local Christian station does not play some classic Michael English, Steven Curtis Chapman, Steve Green, New Song and 4 Him on a regular basis. You get my idea.

Intermingled with the Christian music is the standard soft rock music from days gone by: Rick Springfield, Loverboy, Foreigner, Journey, Def Leppard, KISS, Depeche Mode. What can I say? I am a diverse music lover.  There was some great stuff that I had clearly forgotten about and had replaced by more current music Cd's to play. What is a girl to do?!?

I downsized. After listening to some of the music, I realized that I could purge a few, like Brian Barrett, Sierra and Point of Grace. They did not stand the test of time. But there was a long list of artists that I knew I wanted to replace the mixed tape with a true CD. So for my birthday, I looked through the clearance and 'oldies' section of Wal Mart, Target, Best Buy and K-Mart and replaced what I could find. I found a decent number of them available for usually less than $7 per CD--a few even at $2.99. The Right Price. Sweet. (Bemused or irritated that these artists fell under 'oldies'....well, whatever. I suppose at some point I would be considered in the 'older' generation.)

itunes gift card, where I was able to take some of the individual songs I preferred and get rid of the actual full cassette tape from where they originated.

After three months, my chore is completed. Spending too much money on myself (but using birthday and Christmas as my excuse), I have been able to get rid of about 60 of the tapes. I still have about 25 store bought cassettes from artists whose music I like, but think the tape is 'good enough'. Plus I have about 15 mixed tapes that are so mixed that to replace them would cost more than I care to spend, although I like them well enough to keep. I also still have a 2 page 'wish list' of CDs I hope to eventually purchase, and individual songs to buy from itunes slowly, over time. Between furniture and music, I am over budget and out of money. Maybe by the end of this year I will have collected them all, which averages out to about one or two Cd's a month, plus a few individual songs at a time.

Being a sensible person, I did not throw out any of the store quality tapes. Those I will either put on Freecycle or wait for our next book and tape drive at my daughter's school. They are still great music--just an outdated version. I am sure I can find a new owner of the classic music. Someone else who needs to move out of the 80s but will be 'tickled pink' to find them.

I can claim to be officially in the Y2K era though. As for the small collection of VHS tapes I still have. OK, I am still a work in progress as far as THAT goes. I'll get there eventually, too.