Things that matter

I have some people in my life that I would do anything for.  You heard me. ANYTHING. Before you mentally set about disproving me; Yes, I can imagine times I could kill for them, surrogate their children, break the law, donate organs, fly across the globe. You get the picture.

Kelly Diels got me thinking this morning about what makes these people so special? What have they done to lay claim to my spare kidney? Well, they are family. They are ‘my people’. Not all of them share my DNA. Not all of them (very few in fact) live close enough for me to have an easy coffee with. Most of them I don’t see as often as I’d like. But none of that matters.

These people support the very best in me. They call me out when I’m slacking. They are clear when I’m confused. They say what needs to be said, even when they know it will stretch the friendship. The hold me and let me cry. They cut me slack even when I don’t deserve it. Especially when I don’t deserve it. They bear witness to my value when I don’t have the eyes to see it. They accept all sides of me (and boy, do I have a few). They accept my wildness even when it pushes their own buttons – God I love them for that.

They have sat crying with me in the cold grass in the wee hours, mediated my temper, offered a heart-felt ‘I told you so’ in the morning and then fixed my hair. They have helped me tend to a battered and sore body without flinching. They have heard the blackest secrets of my soul and not turned away. Not even I could do that. They share in my private world in a way others never will.

These people matter. These things matter.

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