I confess that I sometimes don't appreciate my friends as much as I should have.
Whenever Turkey Day rolls around, there is always an avalanche of sentiment pertaining to the importance of family. You are bombarded with the Nelson Rockwell paintings of the old fashioned haole family gathered around the yummy-licious clearly Butterball turkey and everyone is beaming with goodness and love. I don't think I can recall a single Thanksgiving when we all gathered around a table - let alone sat on chairs around a table - and gave thanks for anything more than the fresh sashimi someone fought the crowds off for at Marukai or Tamashiro Market. This image of Thanksgiving is not my reality, mostly because most of the people who were in my home were not blood relatives but part of my very extended calabash family.
Your family is your family because they didn't have a choice. They are for all intents and purposes stuck with you. Oscar the Grouch in one of his rare displays of human emotion once commented that people would likely not choose their relatives as their friends, particularly those relatives closest to you. I am sure my Grandma will come out of the butsudan when I write this and agree with him. We are with our family BECAUSE they are our family, not because we met them at a drinken Shinnenkai party and hit it off or spent hours with them selling t-shirts at a Taiko Fundraiser (yes, that's referring to you, Lois N.).
I have come to realize that the people I truly, madly, deeply enjoy spending time with (aside from the obligatory reference to my children) are my friends. Each of them are so different yet they have one major thing in common - they are able to tolerate me even when I myself feel I am intolerable. They "get me" and still somehow manage to like me. They run the gamut from little 2 year old Sydney who makes me actually consider having an IVF to reboot my ovaries so I can have an adorable little daughter around the house again (and hopefully, trade the moody, hostile yet amazingly beautiful 13 year old Diva for) to 99 year old Kit who shares the foibles of being old always with a sparkle of naughtiness in the eyes. They are happy, happy, joy, joyful like Tammy who never ever seems to have a down day to major grouchy yet not Grinchy Beau who freaks me out whenever he says something nice in between the usual ranting about everything in life that irritates him.
Of course, all of my calabash "Dads" from the 100th and 442nd make everyday a holiday when I'm with them. They have shown me what it means to be human and how to go on when you have been to hell. I mean, it's hard to complain about how humbug it is to run out of dishwashing soap and having to go to the store last minute when you hear them speak of surviving harrowing battles in Europe. It is amazing how they can talk about having a friend die in their arms and the next minute, have a debate over which part of the cuttlefish is better - legs or head. The bond that they have with each other has lasted over 70 years and will undoubtedly continue on until the last one is standing.
I am also thankful for the many calabash "Bruddahs" I have who make me kinda sorta understand the male mind a little bit better like Gary who calls me when he's feeling uh shall we say artificially cheerful, Ron who is the macho man in our Goro's Gang group of gals and keeps the hormone level from rising too high and the snarkiness for hitting a new low to Robert who has his own medical issues to deal with but checks in on me to make sure I'm okay if he doesn't hear from me for a while.
My lifesavers though have been my many soul sisters who keep me on Facebook too many hours and who offer knowledge, wisdom and bacon when I need it - Pam, Stacey, Shari, the aforementioned Lois, Sally, Wendy, Lynn, A. Renee.... What I think is interesting about my group of soul sisters is that the majority of us to not have blood sisters of our own. It is like we filled those spaces with each other and improved on the whole concept of Sisterhood of the Travelling (Stretch) Pants. They have seen me at my worst and have always been their to dig me out of the seemingly bottomless pit of stress, confusion and depression on occasion. They know I am totally scatterbrained and unorganized yet still have faith in me to pull through and pitch in. Wow, that's REAL love!
So, on this day before Turkey Day, I would like to say Thank You to all of you who did not unfriend me this year and hopefully will not do so next year.
