There’s a book that has gained a great deal of popularity called “The 5 People You Meet in Heaven”. I’ve neither read the book nor have I seen the movie, but this morning the title alone has stuck in my head. I have a handful of friends that I think of every time I hear that title, because I feel like they are my angels of mercy here on earth. One of them can convince you she’s really a demon, but that’s a tale for another day
I think most people, except those who don’t believe in a Higher Power, would agree that God puts individuals in our lives specifically to help us out. Most of us can share a story where someone was a breath of inspiration at just the moment we needed them. Even those who profess dis-belief in God would likely concede that there are times when someone is right where they need to be at the moment they needed them. (How they can still not believe in a Higher Power after that is baffling to me, but each to their own. *sigh*) For a lot of us, we merely call these gifts “friend”.
I have found myself blessed with more friends than I ever knew I had, especially since I have learned how to use the technology that allows me to share my mental purging. It has seemed strange to learn that I had a greater potential for friendships in my past, now that high school acquaintances have resurged as budding new friendships thanks to MySpace and FaceBook. Although I have felt encouraged by these folks, I have also been disappointed that I am not making the best of my time to be a better friend to those I have been close to for years.
Last night, that guilt sent me crashing.
Yu see, most days I am barely hanging on. I worry way too much about things I have no control over and, though I have begun to improve my perspective, and therefore my mental health, sometimes something pops up that sends me reeling. I understand it is because I care deeply, but there’s a bit more to it at times.
I have not seen Mimi and her family since before the holidays and it shames me to think of it. I haven’t even communicated with them much, thinking that they will call me if something is wrong. And they did. I understand that what they are going through is NOT my fault, but, being who and what I am, I feel a sense of responsibility because I was not there as the world fell apart. I KNOW she has just as much trouble calling me for aid, even just as a sounding board, as I do calling on anyone for help myself. If I were more involved in her life, I could have seen what was going on, and been there to help resolve the situation. There is where the bulk of my guilt lies.
But not all of it.
There is divine irony in the fact that both times her prescribed medications took a chemical dump, I was in the throes of envy. I try to not be envious of other people’s lives, because I truly do appreciate the gift of existence I have been given. I understand that God knows better than I do what kind of life would be best for me, but I cannot help but be jealous of a woman who has a lovely house and family like Mimi does. She has the ability to stay home and be nothing more than a wife and mother, which I think is the sublime position to be in.
It’s not for everyone, though, and it is not for Mimi. Mimi is like my grandma-she’s a worker. Not that it’s not hard work taking care of home and family, but some people have that need to work outside the home. They thrive when they have a career to enhance or even just a job they enjoy. This is the way my life is supposed to work, it seems, and I can’t help but feel guilty that my desire to live differently may have been the cause of this episode.
You see, I believe that God does have a direct impact on my life. When I need something, God provides it. It seems to me I needed to be reminded that my idea of a perfect life, is never truly perfect. I know you are thinking that it’s not my fault, I have no control over the lives of others, but, like I said, I BELIEVE God sends me messages through the lives of those around me, and I am deeply sorry.
Mimi and I met at her first job. She was barely old enough to work there, but plenty old enough to be a mother. From the very beginning I took her under my wing, and we have soared together ever since. Of course we’ve plummeted a time or two as well. Like most of my best friends, she and I have had periods where we fell out of communication, but never out of mind. Even during my 2 years in North Carolina, she and I remained so close that her miscarriage nearly sent me to the hospital. A few years my junior, she was the little sister I always wanted.
I have watched her grow over these past 13 years from an innocent young mother, through the turbulent twenties into a beautiful woman worthy of envy. It is not always an easy transition from mentor and student to equal peers, but the natural flow of our relationship makes Mimi my rock. Even when we don’t speak to one another, I can think on her and receive encouragement to face whatever new challenge approaches. Even when she is weak, she gives me strength.