I've Got A Friend

This weekend my best friend from high school escaped the cold and wet Fall of Illinois to soak up the warm sun and sip some margaritas here in sunny San Antonio. Kathleen is my oldest friend--she would want me to point that she is not to be confused with "oldest" in terms of chronological years! We met and instantly bonded in 9th grade Home Economics class nearly 30 years ago. As 14 year olds, we learned how to create Chicken Tettrazini and Baked Alaska, the meringue topped ice cream- filled cake that defies melting if hermetically sealed before placing it in an awaiting hot oven. I remember wondering if, as an adult, I would concoct such dishes each night to amaze and astound my friends and family. I can honestly say I haven't pulled that particular rabbit out of my hat since that class.

Back in the day we were inseparable--sharing clothes, wandering the halls together, pointing out the cute boys, and decorating each other's lockers on special days. After school we religiously piled onto the overstuffed couch at her house, transfixed by the dramatic twists and turns facing the residents of Pine Valley on "All My Children" while wolfing down melted cheese sandwiches. We pored over Seventeen Magazine and could rely on the other to provide honest feedback about a new hairstyle or eye shadow experiment. After high school we went on to become roommates, sharing a series of apartments while testing our wings in the workplace. We weathered arguments over bills, groceries and boyfriends. We comforted each other over break ups. We were in each other's weddings and celebrated the births of our children. Over this past decade we have consoled each other through our parents' deaths. Now we share confidences and worries over our own parenting struggles, approaching mid-life and the life ahead of us as we grow older over the telephone and by email.

Despite the fact that we live states apart and only see each other every couple of years, she is the friend I feel closest to because she has beared witness to the evolution of my life, and I hers. She saw me in braces and headgear--I saw here emulating the Farrah Fawcett winged-look. Although I am not aware of her day-to-day activities and challenges she faces in her workplace, I feel an immediate ease and connection when I hear her voice on the other end of the line. Sharing the weekend with my friend allowed me a chance to be grateful for our ability as humans to seek out such connection and social contact with others.

I am grateful to for all of my friendships with women--those that have been time-tested as well as the new ones which are just beginning to bud. I learn so much from the relationships I share with my women friends. During pregnancy I quizzed other expectant moms about their symptoms, experiences and worries. When my daughter was young, I gleaned advice from other moms who were a few years ahead of me on the Mommy Timeline. Throughout my career as a therapist and life coach, I have sought out other women from whom I could be mentored and guided to become a better, more skilled clinician and coach. Together with my running buddies we discuss and sort through life's blips and burps as sweat drips off us while we pound out the miles.

We all know that contact with others is important but many do not realize that friendships do great things for our health. Scientists now suspect that hanging out with friends can actually counteract the stress most of us experience on a daily basis. A landmark UCLA study suggests that women respond to stress with a cascade of brain chemicals that cause us to make and maintain friendships with other women. When the hormone oxytocin is released as part of the stress response in a woman, it buffers the fight or flight response (which stress studies involving male subjects support) and encourages her to tend children and gather with other women instead. When she actually engages in this tending or befriending, studies suggest that more oxytocin is released, which further counters stress and produces a calming effect. This calming response does not occur in men, because testosterone (which men produce in high levels when they are under stress) seems to reduce the effects of oxytocin. Estrogen seems to enhance the production of oxytocin.

Social ties reduce our risk of disease by lowering blood pressure, heart rate, and cholesterol. Friends help us live longer and better. A health study from Harvard Medical School found that the more friends women had, the less likely they were to develop physical impairments as they aged, and the more likely they were to be leading a joyful life.

So, when was the last time you bonded with your best bud? Pick up the phone for your health and the health of your friend!

Thought for the Day: Take a few minutes each day this week to connect with a neighbor, colleague or friend. Pay attention to how your body feels after you have spent some time "shooting the breeze" or sharing an event in your day. Relationships take effort--but the benefits are well worth it!

"My friends give me a sense,
not only of who I am,
but of what I truly can become." Dan Garland

Love Needs A Heart

Today my family and I are safely on the other side of a health scare. A week ago my husband was referred to a cardiologist due to an increasing number of arrythmias (erratic heart beats). After a stress test, the doc urged him to undergo a cardiac catheterization to determine if there were any blockages or narrowing of the arteries. We spent a nervous week waiting for Thursday morning to roll around, trying to keep the worries at bay and the good thoughts flowing.

Fortunately the procedure went without a hitch and my husband was given the best gift ever--word that there were no blockages nor signs of plaque. His arrythmias will now be treated with meds alone. We breathed a collective sigh of relief and celebrated the good news that night with my stepkids, future son-in-law and our daughter over some homemade posole, red chile and tortillas (at the New Mexico-bred patient's request).

Throughout Thursday evening my mind flitted back and forth to the morning's events and just how different the day could have been. The nurses and the surgeon noted the news passed on to their patients is usually not as positive as the news we received. I gave multiple silent thanks throughout the day and night (and continue to this day) that my husband was given a second chance at health....We were offered an extended warranty on our life together....I was given yet another reminder to savor each and every day and be grateful for the life we have.

We've been together for nearly 20 years and after sharing the same space for that length of time, it is easy to become complacent. I know I am guilty at times of moving through my days focused and intent on my work or other projects, and there are days when I fail to connect eye to eye and soul to soul with my husband.

Relationships are a process--they are continually shaped and redefined by time and circumstances. For a relationship to succeed, each member must provide the space for the other to grow, change, reach, aspire and become. Sometimes this can be scary and anxiety provoking. Sometimes the relationship is outgrown because one person in the relationship has matured into a different person, with different needs, goals and values than when the relationship was first born. I believe for relationships to succeed and prosper, there must be an underlying respect of and compassion for one's partner. Additionally, one must continue to be interested and encouraging of the other's self growth--gently supporting and sometimes nudging, if necessary, to keep the other moving towards life and personal expansion. In our 20- year joint venture, we have definitely had our share of growing pains, worries about the future of our relationship, and low points. However, I am blessed that despite such trials and tests, we continue to value and love one another and work to help each other grow and love life.

Our relationship would have been irretrievably altered had we been offered serious news on Thursday. That we didn't receive such news allows me breathe a sigh of relief but also makes me turn a wary eye toward the future, knowing that it is just a matter of time til one or both of us is given dire health news. The news on Thursday reminded us to savor health and our relationship and to be grateful for all that we have in our lives: attentive family, excellent health care, skilled and compassionate physicians and nursing staff, and the opportunity to continue to live our lives without medical hardship. Most of all, we recognize that we are a team, available to offer support to the other when needed, both in the good times and the rough, moving through our life together with resilience and love.

Thought for the Day: Use this writing as a wake up call for yourself. Take a look at your important relationships. What can you do this week to move closer--supporting and encouraging each other as you move through your life together? How can you express gratitude to your loved one?

"Love does not consist in gazing at each other...
but in looking outward together in the same direction."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Paint By Memory

This weekend was an industrious one for me as I decided the spare bedroom could not go another day without a fresh coat of vibrant color on it's walls. After much consideration, I finally settled on a warm pumpkiny-cinnamon color with the puzzling name of "Chivalry Copper." It's been a really long time since I undertook a painting job on my own and my aching back reminds me this morning that professional painters are worth every penny of their fee. What started out in my mind as a job that would take a few hours, quickly morphed into a three day endeavor: Day 1 was spent running back and forth to the paint store for sample colors. Day 2 was marked by taping and protecting all the woodwork, ceiling corners and doorframes, lugging and scooting furniture into the center of the room, removing pictures, nails and hooks,laying down the sheets on the floor and barricading the Danes out of the room. Day 3 involved transforming the walls from dull white to WOW!

I found the painting process meditative and with the rhythmic swoosh of the paint roller, it wasn't long before my mind took me back to my childhood. My parents were from an era where repair work around the house and yard was rarely hired out. Dad was in charge of the painting, roofing, wallpapering and every thing related to the yard. Mom's responsibilities comprised of running the household and giving my Dad orders on what she wanted done. Dad could fix just about anything--from a sewer backup to repaving a driveway to putting on a new roof. Being the only child at home, I often played Dad's apprentice during the fix-up jobs. I spent hours riding around in our pea-soup green 1967 Chevy Impala with him to Color Tile and the lumber yard collecting items to bring home for the job at hand. At the paint store, I thumbed through the "Learn to Draw" paperbacks, which promised to teach anyone how to draw horses or cars or animals, while Dad made his purchases. He bought me the one about drawing horses, and as I studied the placement of the circles, oblongs and rectangles on the way home, I thrilled to the thought that I might become a famous artist one day, as promised by the copy on the front of the booklet.

I remembered coming home on my last day as a 7th grader, summer in the air, to find my Dad repainting my room the Robin's Egg Blue I had admired on our last trip to the paint store. I quickly changed clothes and placed my little AM transistor radio in the middle of the room to keep us entertained while we painted. Over the course of the afternoon, we talked, joked, hummed and enjoyed each other's presence. Alice Cooper sang "School's Out for Summer," the windows were open and the intoxicating blend of paint, summer fast-approaching and the roses outside my window, intermingled to make a lasting, loving memory of hanging out with my Dad.

Back in the here and now, I realize that my painting project provided me the mental space to tap into some long buried memories of times with my Dad which I hadn't accessed for years. Although he's been gone for eight years, I felt his presence with me over the hours as I transformed the shade of the room. His patient lessons on how to prep for painting, how to pour paint to minimize drips, and how to coat the walls to trap the "holidays" came back to me as if he were showing me just as he had way-back-when in my bedroom in California. My mind was able to reconnect while my body went through the physical motion, in sync with the memories.

I emerged on Saturday, paint-speckled and smiling after my loving commune with my past. Now as I enter the vibrant bedroom, I see Dad there smiling and admiring the work we shared.

Thought for the Day: Is there a way you can provide yourself some mental space and time to reconnect to some loving memories that have been buried over time? Who served as a mentor or guide to you that you would like to reestablish contact with--even if only in memory?

Happy are the painters, for they shall not be lonely. Light and colour, peace and hope, will keep them company to the end of the day.
--Winston Churchill