Opaque Lucidity

Out Of The Forest

The friend I wrote about the other day has found out that his tumor is most likely benign. I haven't talked to him yet, but I'm sure he is ecstatic. He faced his condition calmly, as I knew he would; nonetheless, I'm sure it's a good feeling to know that everything is going to be OK and that he'll probably never have to undergo radiation treatments.

I've felt a lot of guilt these past weeks. My friend does not live here, so I was not there for his surgery or his time in the hospital. I would've flown there, but with the holidays just around the corner, I could not afford a ticket. He was surrounded (and still is) by friends and family who have provided not just emotional comfort, but food, gift cards and the like so that his family has fewer things to worry about. Their friends are a reflection of themselves, for as my father always says, "Water seeks its own level."

I've written here before about friendship and how strict my definition of it is. To some people, a friend is anyone with whom you spend time---co-workers, drinking buddies, etc. In truth, those people are acquaintances. Friends are the people in your life who are family in all ways but biological. We love these people; not the sexual infatuation so many people picture as love these days, but love that comes from brotherhood and shared experience. Because of that, my friend, his brother and myself are brothers.

So I wish I could've been there. I certainly was there mentally, as that surgery was the overriding thought in my mind in the days leading up to it. It reminded me that we are all here on a temporary basis and that we can be called away at any time. If I had to go tomorrow, I would be most grateful for the friends and family in my life. All else shrinks away in comparison.