I love a misty morning. The way the air is now just relaxes me. Last night had its ups and downs for me (mostly ups). I had dinner with two of my favorite women. And, as always, one of THEM cooked, yummy yummy. We talked, ate, drank and laughed until I pussied out and had to go home, I was extremely tired from the day, the wine.

When I got home, I received a call from a friend. Two of her aunts and her mother are very ill. She found out that day that the cancer in her aunt�s face and neck had spread so deep, she had to have her nose and half her larynx removed. Her mother is scheduled for surgery, something to do with the heart, and last time she had surgery she had a stroke. All of this family lives in New Mexico, and my friend lives here. She�s debating over whether or not to move back there, to be with her parents and her aunts. I didn�t know what to say. See, there are a lot of factors that keep her here in California. Things about her that they don�t accept in other places in the country. I told her that her parents would never choose their happiness over hers. That she didn�t have to make any rash decisions right now, she just found all this out, so some time thinking and a visit there first could be some good steps toward figuring out what she really wants to do.

I offered to help in any way I could. She said I helped just by listening to her. And then, she said something that humbled me more than I can ever remember being humbled. She said, �Barb, you�re young. But I trust your opinion so much. You are wise, more than people twice your age, and well, it�s special, you�re special.� Now, usually, I can take compliments in stride. I accept them graciously, scoop them up as if I were trained to do so by royalty. But this time� I didn�t feel like I deserved it. I felt like a fake, some poser who was eliciting a compliment, trying to be self-serving in a supposedly selfless act of human compassion. I felt self-serving, and I didn�t like it. This woman IS twice my age. She�s been around the block, she�s lived through more than anyone I know, and here she was, telling ME that she needs my perspective because I am �wise�.

Of course, I did end up accepting the compliment graciously, at least on the surface. I said, �Thank you,� in the most sincere and genuine voice I could muster. While silently, I was thinking, if only she knew how I really am. That I don�t know anything, I�m just a woman who has a matter-of-fact tone of voice. But then I wondered, even if I�m faking it, if it helps her get through something, then maybe there is some good to my schtick. I enjoy helping people. But I wonder, again, if it�s self-serving to be that way. It all comes back to the �anonymous good-doer�. Could I help someone anonymously? And not tell anyone about it? Or am I looking for that recognition, that pat on the back that says, �Barb, you done good, girl. Way to help, you�re a wonderful person.� I wonder sometimes, how much do I really crave those words? Is the end worth the means? Anyway, I got off the phone and decided to call the girls I left an hour before, the girls who had been ringing my call-waiting off the hook while I spoke with my sad friend.

They answered the phone, laughing and giggling (guess the other bottle of wine was killed), and I asked what was up. Apparently, the one, while doing her laundry, discovered something odd in the hamper with her clothes, something I had, um, overlooked and left there after staying at her place last weekend. So they switched the phone back and forth to each other, laughing and giving me a hard time. �So what is this, Barb? What did you do with it?� � switch -- �You dirty girl! You�re crazy!� � switch � �Oh my God, you kill me, this is so funny!� � switch -- �HAA haaa haaaHAAA! I�ll see you soon!� � switch � �You BETTER tell what�s-his-face that I found this! Where do you get this, by the way? Anyway, I can�t stop laughing. I�ll talk to you in the morning!� Click.

I didn�t get a word in edgewise. Just kept saying, �oh, that�s funny, I don�t know, must have fallen out of my bag, huh.� I have to mention, though, that I was laughing myself when I hung up the phone, they were just both so funny, the whole thing was hysterical. So after giggling into my room, I shrugged out of my work clothes, crawled into bed, and passed the fuck out. Had some crazy dreams that woke me up a few times, but other than that, my sleep was comfy and the cats purring lulled me back into my dream-state each time.

-Barbarella

previous | next