by:  Linda Law

   The months turned into years, and then I heard her voice, "Hello, I'm in town for today, and would love to visit with you for awhile. May I come over?"  She sounded tired, although her voice attempted to sound cheerful, yet I knew.  "Please stop by, I'll fix some coffee and we can share a light meal together."  She said she was on her way.
    Her short red hair was styled perfectly, and she looked as if she had stepped out of a salon just minutes earlier.  Nails were done, makeup was flawless, nice outfit, with everything in the latest fashion.  Strange, how I have always envied her ability to look so modern, in a casual way.  Her teeth were white and the smile was breathtaking as always.
    We sat on the sofa in the great room, tray sitting in front of us, and after a few laughs, exchanges of times gone by, I saw the glimmer in her eyes.  Tears were brimming, but not yet forthcoming, it wouldn't be long...and I began to feel uncomfortable.  My own problems have been many of late; and I wasn't certain I could listen with compassion, afterall....but I would do my best.  Friends are for listening, for supporting those we care for.. this I told myself.
    "I am a loser" she said.  "I've always been a loser in everything I do.  No matter how hard I try, or how much I smile; no matter how I project a positive attitude, and no matter how much I stumble, fall, and lift myself up...I know that I am nothing more than a loser!"  By now the tears were falling, and the perfectly applied eye makeup was smeared, with black smudges across her lovely cheeks.  It was easy to understand her pain, my own pain has been so heavy over the years, but I too have tried to pretend that all is well, that I am happy, that I will succeed, no matter how difficult the trial may be.  I listened, I reached over and touched her hand, let her know that I am her friend, that I want to help her, and I began to give advice.  She didn't ask, I assumed.  We know what that means, don't we?
     "How can you believe that you are a loser?" I asked.  "You are always the one to offer a hand, to take on the problems of another, the one to smile when it's the last thing one expects.  Your pocketbook is open to those you love, even if you have to do without something.  You have a way of making others smile, of forgetting their problems, and when you speak we know you are genuine."  The list of her accomplishments in life began to tumble from my lips, her thriving career, the ability to earn six figures, her endless list of admirers, and invitations throughout her life.  She dropped her head into her hands, and began to sob.  Her body was racked in pain, and the suffering she was feeling could be felt throughout my own body, my mind and my heart. 
    She finally faced me, and she said, "My youth was filled with horrible abuse, yet I held my head high.  I did my best to overcome all obstacles, and with each goal reached, there was never any lasting joy.  There was never one to hold me and tell me they loved me, or were proud of me, and so the search continued.  My first husband said he loved me each time he put his fist into my face, each time he broke a bone, or drew blood from my face or body.  It was just like it was when I was a child...love meant being punched, kicked, beaten, and jeered into pushing myself to reach higher. No matter how high I reached, or what goal was met, I waited for the love...and when there were no physical blows, there were the words....sometimes words can hurt more than a beating."
   "I never knew you had been abused as a child or in marriage.  Why have you never shared that with me, with your friends?"  She smiled a half-hearted crooked smile, and said, "I was always ashamed, too ashamed to let others know how weak and foolish I have been.  Besides, it only makes others show pity, and I was too proud.  I learned early on, never to tell.  To tell was considered weak, and I was not weak.  Or so I told myself, fooled myself into believing.  Later, my children were born, and each of them were the world to me; I would give them more than I had ever been given...real love.  They took that love, then they left me too.  I heard them laughing one day, while they were visiting and I was in the kitchen, scrambling around eager to fix them their favorite meal."  I heard my children laughing about how they had always known how to get me to give them money, to let them get away without punishment, or to relieve them from being grounded.  They laughed at me, not with me. My daughter said, "I'll never be stupid like her."  
   "My job was satisfaction in many ways, it gave me a sense of accomplishment.  Climbing the ladder of success when women didn't have the opportunities like they have now.  The salary was good, the benefits were great, and I was beginning to feel that I was finally worthy....then... While waiting for the board of directors arrive for a large meeting, I heard them laughing too."  "I wonder how many times she had to sleep with ole' man Brown before he made her his assistant?"  Another voice I recognized said, "Oh, she's slept with almost everyone on the Board, except for the wife of the CEO!" and then they all broke out in laughter.  Instead of me being brave and walking into the room, letting them know I had overheard, I snuck out the back door and called in sick."  
     "It wouldn't matter to them that I had never slept with anyone other than my husband during my entire life, because they would believe what they wanted."  My ears listened, but my heart was elsewhere.  I wondered if I pitied her, or understood her pain; it was difficult for me to decide.
   When I had heard enough, I turned to her and said, "Look, you have nothing to be ashamed of; you have made a success of your life regardless of the obstacles, and you should simply laugh at those who are too stupid to care or bother to understand you."  
    My friend sat back on the sofa, brushed her skirt, and with a flip of her hand, she twisted her hair back behind one ear, and said...."You were my last good friend...the one that I knew would care....but even you don't understand afterall!"  Astonishment must have covered my face, my jaw dropped and my mouth sat at half-mast..."I don't understand why you would say that to me...I do care about you..."
   "Yes, I know you care; but I really just needed a shoulder to lean on...someone to listen...not give me advice, not cheer me on, not try to fill me with all those great sayings....all I wanted was for you to listen...I know all the things I should have done, or still can do...shoulda-coulda...but sometimes it's just comforting to have an ear... "
   Evidently, I failed my friend in some way; and at the time I was a bit miffed at her response.  Later when I was getting ready for bed...I began to replay the afternoon and the conversation we had shared....She had tried to tell me things she hadn't shared before.  I was so busy trying to console, give advice, and lead her into my analyzing of her position... and all she really wanted or needed was for me to listen!
    The following day, I phoned her and apologized, but I knew it was a little too late.  Perhaps I am not the friend she needs; and perhaps she sensed that I was too into my own problems to make room for hers.  

I suppose the lesson in this story, is that sometimes we try to be everything, please everyone, and we simply can't understand that we can't always fill the shoes that are needed by those who need us.  All we can do is our best....even when it isn't enough.

Linda law