In the early days following Tristan's diagnosis, a "veteran cancer mom" told me, "You will find out who your true friends are. You will forever be changed by this. Your life will be entirely different."
She proved to be correct, as I waited for friends to call, text, email, or even type a quick comment on Facebook. Most of them did, but a few said nothing at all. I felt very early on, that silence was the worst kind of betrayal.
Except that it wasnt.
Jen, my best friend of 20 years, called me daily, post-diagnosis. "You just tell me when, and I can be there in two days." It was exactly what I needed and expected to hear. Jen has five kids, all of which I love and cherish deeply. Unfortunately, she has lived out of the state for over a decade. I have always had a plan in place, should anything ever happen to her or one of her kids. My credit card, even in the worst of times, has held enough funds to buy a last minute plane ticket to Jen, no matter where she may be. There is literally nothing in my life that I wouldn't drop in order to be by her side, if she should ever need me.
I told her to hold off on a trip, because in those first few weeks, I had no idea where we would be, or what we would need. I was living in each moment, incapable of even looking ahead to the next hour, much less the next day, or the next week.
She decided to fly out almost a week before she had planned to come up for her cousin's wedding. This would be six weeks post-diagnosis, and that felt like a good time to me. She said she would cook, clean, take care of the kids, but most of all, she would be spending time with me.
It was so relieving to finally have a concrete date of when she would be here. I clung tightly to those dates in my mind. It felt like I spent those weeks with my teeth clenched until she would arrive--until I could see her face and really start breathing normally again.
However, as that date approached, she slowly began to whittle down our time together, due to family obligations that she wanted to tend to. The day before she arrived, I realized that she had pared her visit down to essentially a day and a half with me, and a week with her relatives. This wasn't new behavior for her. Over the years, I had grown accustomed to playing second fiddle to her large extended family. It was always disappointing, but this time, it was absolutely devastating. I was crushed, to say the least.
I honestly still cannot comprehend how my dearest friend, the most important person in my life, could not put me first just this one single time. I imagined myself in her shoes, how I would tell my cousin, "I'm so sorry I won't be able to attend your bridal shower. I'd really like to, but I have previous obligations." I would have had no problem telling my father, "No, I'm sorry--I'm not available to pick you up at the airport. Can I help you find someone else?" It was not as if she had flown in early to be with her family. She had flown in early to be with me. And I guess I wrongly assumed that I was her family too.
I ended up confronting her about this, that day before her flight. She became immediately defensive, the automatic response of the guilty. It was not what I had expected. I'm sure I wasn't nice, and I'm certain I said things that I shouldn't have. Perhaps I have no excuse. I'm sure that I should always be responsible for my words. But I was out of my mind, sleep deprived, and heading towards a nervous breakdown. The only thing that had been holding me together, was the promise of my best friend--her infectious laugh, her hilarious sense of humor, and the joy and normalcy I knew I would find just by being near her.
We ended up awkwardly patching things up at the last minute, and she came over for a day. It was nice.
I think she believes it was a big misunderstanding--that she didn't know how much her visit meant to me, or how much I needed her here. She ha said that "a little time together should be better than no time at all"--and it would have been. If that's what I had been expecting. It would have been, if she hadn't of chosen some silly family functions over her best friend whose child had just been diagnosed with cancer. I truly hope that she never has to experience what that feels like.
She has refused to take any real blame, or to authentically apologize for letting me down. I don't know if her pride is in the way, or if she is truly unable to understand my perspective.
All I know, is that things are not the same between us. I don't know if they ever will be again. I don't know that I can ever again fully open my heart up to her, to trust that she will take care of it. I don't know if our friendship was ever that important to her as it was to me.
"This will show you who your true friends are." You may be shocked and you may become suddenly and painfully aware of those who are not.
She proved to be correct, as I waited for friends to call, text, email, or even type a quick comment on Facebook. Most of them did, but a few said nothing at all. I felt very early on, that silence was the worst kind of betrayal.
Except that it wasnt.
Jen, my best friend of 20 years, called me daily, post-diagnosis. "You just tell me when, and I can be there in two days." It was exactly what I needed and expected to hear. Jen has five kids, all of which I love and cherish deeply. Unfortunately, she has lived out of the state for over a decade. I have always had a plan in place, should anything ever happen to her or one of her kids. My credit card, even in the worst of times, has held enough funds to buy a last minute plane ticket to Jen, no matter where she may be. There is literally nothing in my life that I wouldn't drop in order to be by her side, if she should ever need me.
I told her to hold off on a trip, because in those first few weeks, I had no idea where we would be, or what we would need. I was living in each moment, incapable of even looking ahead to the next hour, much less the next day, or the next week.
She decided to fly out almost a week before she had planned to come up for her cousin's wedding. This would be six weeks post-diagnosis, and that felt like a good time to me. She said she would cook, clean, take care of the kids, but most of all, she would be spending time with me.
It was so relieving to finally have a concrete date of when she would be here. I clung tightly to those dates in my mind. It felt like I spent those weeks with my teeth clenched until she would arrive--until I could see her face and really start breathing normally again.
However, as that date approached, she slowly began to whittle down our time together, due to family obligations that she wanted to tend to. The day before she arrived, I realized that she had pared her visit down to essentially a day and a half with me, and a week with her relatives. This wasn't new behavior for her. Over the years, I had grown accustomed to playing second fiddle to her large extended family. It was always disappointing, but this time, it was absolutely devastating. I was crushed, to say the least.
I honestly still cannot comprehend how my dearest friend, the most important person in my life, could not put me first just this one single time. I imagined myself in her shoes, how I would tell my cousin, "I'm so sorry I won't be able to attend your bridal shower. I'd really like to, but I have previous obligations." I would have had no problem telling my father, "No, I'm sorry--I'm not available to pick you up at the airport. Can I help you find someone else?" It was not as if she had flown in early to be with her family. She had flown in early to be with me. And I guess I wrongly assumed that I was her family too.
I ended up confronting her about this, that day before her flight. She became immediately defensive, the automatic response of the guilty. It was not what I had expected. I'm sure I wasn't nice, and I'm certain I said things that I shouldn't have. Perhaps I have no excuse. I'm sure that I should always be responsible for my words. But I was out of my mind, sleep deprived, and heading towards a nervous breakdown. The only thing that had been holding me together, was the promise of my best friend--her infectious laugh, her hilarious sense of humor, and the joy and normalcy I knew I would find just by being near her.
We ended up awkwardly patching things up at the last minute, and she came over for a day. It was nice.
I think she believes it was a big misunderstanding--that she didn't know how much her visit meant to me, or how much I needed her here. She ha said that "a little time together should be better than no time at all"--and it would have been. If that's what I had been expecting. It would have been, if she hadn't of chosen some silly family functions over her best friend whose child had just been diagnosed with cancer. I truly hope that she never has to experience what that feels like.
She has refused to take any real blame, or to authentically apologize for letting me down. I don't know if her pride is in the way, or if she is truly unable to understand my perspective.
All I know, is that things are not the same between us. I don't know if they ever will be again. I don't know that I can ever again fully open my heart up to her, to trust that she will take care of it. I don't know if our friendship was ever that important to her as it was to me.
"This will show you who your true friends are." You may be shocked and you may become suddenly and painfully aware of those who are not.