My friend stays by my side even when I am in an inconvenient place requiring her to be in an inconvenient position. She’s passionate about being with me, not wanting me to go out at night alone or drive somewhere by myself.
My friend loves when I share things with her, either experiences or food. As long as we walk together in silent companionship, she does not get bored.
My friend believes in eating on time every day. She never wants to arrive late for a meal. I can count on her this way.
My friend is not keen on strangers. She first wants to know if they will hurt me. Once she determines they will treat me with suitable kindness and deference, she will consider letting them be her friend also. She gets irritated if the proper niceties are not followed.
If my friend isn’t able to go out and about with me, she will not forget I am out, waiting for my return for hours. She greets me the first thing as I walk through the door.
I caress my friend unconsciously. She doesn’t mind when I reach out to touch her even if I just touched her a few minutes ago or an hour ago. I told her recently that even one’s partner is not so tolerant. She told me in not so many words that tolerance for me is her watchword. She intimated she was committed to me as long as we could continue living together. I frequently reassure her that we can stay together as long as we are both alive. She’s relieved to know this. My friend lost her family at a young age. Enough years have passed that she only remembers our family.
When we experience a new place, my friend’s perceptions are different than mine. If I pay attention, I can learn a lot about the way of the world from her. She is a being of few words. I learn much by simply watching. I get the feeling she does the same with me. We’ve both pledged to be tolerant of each other’s differing learning styles.
I’m certain if my mind were open enough there is no limit to the things she can teach me. Because of our different backgrounds, I don’t think I can ever be open enough or learn enough from my wise friend. When I’m with her, her acceptance keeps me from even thinking about her judging me for what I wear, how I look, or where I grew up. In her quiet ways, I only feel acceptance.
I fear for the day that one of us will pass. It will feel like a part of me has been cut away and left open to heal without any cure or medicine. She would feel the same, though she hasn’t said so in so many words.
A wise friend knows not to say too much. A wise friend knows the importance of a gentle press of comfort. A wise friend knows that much of what I need to learn I must figure out for myself. A wise friend knows there is no forever in our physical bodies. Though she is wise, she can do nothing for the gash in my soul made by her leaving. Because she is wise, she knows I will take what I’ve learned from her and apply it to another wise friend.
My friend lives in the here and now. She’s implied not in so many words that it would be beneficial for me to live that way too. In her wisdom, she is patient. She is an angel in a dog suit. Upon her death, she will be given wings to fly to new places.
She knows my path will continue without her. She insists not in so many words that I feel the grief in the here and now and that in doing so my resilience will be strengthened. I wish she weren’t quite so wise in this regard. I try to tell her not in so many words that this kind of resilience is over rated. She insists in her own quiet way that resilience is never over rated. Indeed, she states in not so many words that the earth’s success is based on resilience.
Looking at her calm eyes and slightly goofy tongue sticking out, I am forced to agree that our resilience reflects the earth’s resilience and that is a Very Good Thing.
Joceile
6.28.21
[Picture of my friend, Sheba, a long haired, large brindle dog leaning against my leg with my hand on her head with her eyes closed. 2019]
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