Love the Living, episode II: With a Little Help From the Dead

Two years ago this week, someone I knew casually--an acquaintance, my brother-in-law's friend who I'd say hi to in passing, but that's about it--very unexpectedly and quickly became one of my closest friends. Circumstances threw us together at the pub one night and left us to keep each other company while our mutual friends got drunk and played darts. Within two months, Chip and I had crammed each other full of our life stories and were stuck with each other.

The funny thing about becoming such close friends so quickly is that we didn't really have a chance to get used to all the idiosyncrasies that a life-long friend just recognizes as part of you and doesn't think twice about. One of mine is that I talk to Dottie, my grandmother, a habit that wouldn't be strange at all if she was still alive. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in any kind of denial or suffering from delusions; it's just that she was funny as hell, had something to say about everything, and there are just times when I can almost hear her voice because I know exactly what she'd say right then, and before I know what I'm doing, I respond. (A favorite Dottie-ism from everyone who knew her was "That's funny (or any other adjective) enough to knock a buzzard off a shitwagon," and I catch myself thinking it and having to work hard to suppress the giggles.)

One night, we were standing in his kitchen, baking a cake, and I couldn't find a pair of scissors to open a package of some ingredient and was about to just bite a hole in the top. At that moment, I heard Dottie in my head, "not your God-given teeth! Why the hell did you put up with those braces if you're just gonna screw 'em up again." "I know, I know," I sighed--out loud. For a moment, I panicked. Did I just talk out loud to my dead grandmother in front of a New Guy? Yup, I did. While I freaked out for a decade, only a fraction of a second had actually passed before Chip, without looking up from the recipe, reached in a drawer, handed me a knife, and blandly said, "listen to your Gram."

By now, we've been through ups and downs a-plenty, but even on the downs, I know we'll get through it because from the beginning, I've had this friend who really accepts who I am without judging me--though he reserves the right to joke me or immortalize my blunders in a story. At least he's fair; I get the same right, if he doesn't beat me to it since he has far better luck getting published than I do!

It's exactly this kind of no-holds-barred friendship that I've realized really gives my life its substance as I've been going through this whole "how did I get here" phase. There have been lots of times when I've felt life has dealt me a really unfair hand without an option to fold. Now, though, I'm focusing on these wild cards I've been given that make up for some of the bad deals. Nothing can undo Dottie's death, but yet, she still helped me realize the kind of rare friend I'd found in Chip, who in turn breathes a little life into her by getting to know her through me.

I am the luckiest purple-haired girl in the world.

Assignment: Love the Living

In a recent conversation I had with my mom, she informed me that she does not visit cemeteries.  Ever.  She said it's because she lets people know she cares while they're alive, and once they're dead, it's too late.

I used to have a pretty hot temper, until I raised my voice at someone once and they said to me, "you're just like your dad."

Those two seemingly-unrelated pieces of information provide the foundation for my philosophy on interpersonal relationships.  Simply put, if I have something nice to say, I say it, and if I can't say something nice, well, I'll do my best.  It's a work in progress, especially the second part, but oddly enough, the first part is the hardest.  Think about it:  how many times in a day do you think something nice about someone but never say it?  You might think, "I like her shoes," "Wow, he smells good," or even, "I'm really glad I work with her; she's so nice."  I think a lot of times, we let those thoughts stay in our heads because we're afraid the other person will think we're weird, but personally, I'd rather risk it.
I mean, the only time I've ever taken offense at someone saying something complimentary to me has been when some guy was hitting on me under inappropriate circumstances.  Think about it.  Really think: have you ever felt worse about yourself or had your day ruined because someone called you just to say they were thinking of you?  I know I haven't.  This is all aside from the warm fuzzy you get yourself when you get to see someone smile because of you.  That receptionist at your car dealership, the cashier at the UPS store, the barista at the coffee shop--these are people who get hassled a lot and your smile really can make their day.  You know they're programmed to say "thank you; have a nice day," but what if you beat them to it?  Look them in the face, smile, and tell them to have a nice day.  Odds are, they'll look a little surprised, but not in a bad way.

Once again, I have to give credit to my friends, my urban family.  I can probably never leave Verizon, because I can't bear the thought of losing some of these great voicemails I have saved.  I have a few from Andrew, who does the best Chewbacca, Kermit the Frog, and Marvin the Martian impressions ever.  Dude is a walking cartoon.  I have some from Chip, who reads passages from books he thinks I'll like or that make him think of me.  I have Amber, who for some reason calls to tell me about it every time she sees anything painted Pepto-Bismol pink.  I have a dozen people singing "Livin' on a Prayer," because they get a kick out of it being my ringback tone.  The voicemail happythoughts are especially great, because I can listen to them over and over again if I'm having a bad day and always have a reason to smile, no matter what else is going on.

I challenge you to spend the rest of the day (or tomorrow if that's the next time you'll see people) saying out loud anything nice you think.  Maybe filter it for appropriateness (i.e. tell your boss's wife she looks nice, not that she has a great rack), but do it!  Don't assume that your best friend knows you wish you got to talk more, even though your job is crazy right now.  Tell him!  Don't assume that your girlfriend knows you think she's hot.  Say so!  I dare you.