The Bent and the Broken
I had a kind of epiphany the other day, while I was out walking. Since I don’t have headphones in my ears when I walk, I use that time to look around, and to think. What came to mind on this recent walk was that my people, such that they are, are those who’ve taken hits, even some serious body blows. They are the folks for whom days, weeks, months, years have been a struggle, people who’ve battled physical maladies, as well as those who’ve wrestled with the demons unleashed by emotional instability, drug addiction, depression, and other common, but deeply misunderstood maladies.
This occurred to me as I thought about the invitation to a friend’s retirement party that never arrived. He’s someone I’ve known for decades, via work. I have great affection for him, and always have, but as my wiser half reminded me, he was always a narcissist. A charming, delightful, kind human. But still a narcissist. Which might explain why, after asking me if I’d gotten the invitation, finding out I hadn’t, and promising to have it emailed to me, I was kind of hurt to find out that among all those invited, my absence was the soul negative note in an other fabulous series of multiple retirement celebrations. He offered an “I’m sorry,” but added that his assistant probably used my old work email (which stopped being my work email in 2008), while my personal email, which he has had forever, hasn’t changed.
Had this happened a while back, I probably would have been devastated. As it is, I was peeved, but then thought, “Oh fuck it. Life’s too short and he only makes an effort on his terms. And in this case, he made no real effort at all.” I did at least message him back not to doubly insult me with the “my absence” bullshit. Leave me out, fine. But don’t coat me in fake remorse.
All of which got me thinking about the people in my life who are actually present. The people for whom my mattering isn’t some reflection or not on their vanity. And I realized that to a person, they are a choir of struggle, people for whom life has been a journey full of zigzags, derailments, hopefulness, anguish, love, terror, tears and more. They are people with what I very pointedly and intentionally describe as enlarged hearts.
These are friends and friends-made-into-family who have a seemingly elastic capacity to make room for you. And for whom it feels absolutely right and necessary to do the same. Frankly, it’s the reciprocity that is a beautiful benefit, a counterweight, as it were, to all the bent- and broken-ness. I fall, you pick me up. You fall, I do the same for you. It’s an unspoken, and unbreakable commitment, because it is forged in fires of deep friendship and love. It is made of trust and faith and belief and empathy and listening and laughing and crying and aching with. Because what we cannot fix, we choose to acknowledge, with candor, with honesty, with clear-eyed hope, and above all, with love.
I have pushed my husband to do something normally far outside his comfort zone. I have pushed him to reach out to and be in touch with long-ago friends who have had enormous rocks to push up hill in recent years. In doing so, he has discovered that gratitude is a magic elixir. That the effort to (re)connect, to demonstrably care about the lives of others, without judgment, without cleverness, but with walk-beside-you-and-be-your-friend kindness is something too few value, and too many need. When you make that connection, when you affirmatively demonstrate a willingness to be present for someone, to include someone, to ask, to listen, you are giving someone breath. Truly.
I am so happy for what my husband has given these friends and others, people for whom he is like a deeply rooted tree. He represents a kind of stability that eludes many people, though his own rootedness gets battered at times as well. He bends in the wildest of winds, but has yet to break. It is my dearest hope that he, his friends, and I and mine, never will. But if we do, it is not crazy to imagine that another of us, bent but not yet broken, will pull us up. Or bend a whole lot more trying…
