End of My Holiday Pity Party

I haven't been blogging much lately. It's been almost a month since my last post. Mom used to say, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." That's my justification for not posting a message - I've had nothing "nice" to say.

Yes, I have a good job, a roof over my head, adorable pets, food on the table, even a splendid fall vacation to New England with a girlfriend. And yes, going into the holiday season I have felt depressed about my mom's health, the death of my precious stepdad, the absence of my brother, Gary's heart condition, the economy, finances and recent letdowns by people I hold dear to my heart. People like to say, "It is what it is." More and more that seems to be part of what a young friend calls "word vomit." Whatever (another awful buzz word) - I've been like sad sack Eeyore on negativity steroids.

Since Halloween, everything in my life has been about forced simplicity. Cutting back on celebration, holiday decor and expenses, my focus has been on the frugality needed to pay the rent and monthly bills, especially for Mom. Channeling my inner Pollyanna, I've stayed awake numerous nights wondering if something special might happen to turn the tide of anxiety that plagued me.

Like a corny song, out of the blue of the vast Internet came a little miracle. I discovered Susan and Barbara, two girlfriends I knew in Honolulu but had lost touch with for a dozen years. They now live a mile from one another in the Phoenix area. Was it coincidence they were in a place named for a legendary bird that burned up in a fire and then came back to life in a powerful way that healed itself and others? For me, the discovery was another remarkable experience of synchronicity.

I traveled to visit my old friends the first week in December. Our reconnection was both healing and FUN. They had stayed close, bouying one another's spirits over the years. My presence was unexpected, yet we were able to pick up where we left off, weaving the stories of children, jobs, relationships, joys and hardships into each other's lives in a way that enriched us to the core. Like me, these remarkable women have endured all kinds of challenges, heartbreaks and joys since we lived in Hawaii, making "lemonade" - or lemon drop martinis - from all of it.

Our laughter carried us through three days of catching up. In our joy, we reached out to other women friends we missed from Hawaii and had lost touch with - finding them via Facebook and LinkedIn. Who knows, perhaps in 2010 we'll stage a reunion of every girlfriend we loved in Hawaii, who lived and worked together for a season. That special season may turn into lifetime of friendship after all.

My personal holiday pity party is over. I'm still struggling with the upheaval in my family and how to deal with it; but I feel blessed by the possibilities of renewal of cherished friendships from the past and the healing of more recent friendships challenged by present circumstances. And best of all, I know I have a foundation of close friends to depend on, in the same way they depend on me, to get through any and all challenges. Clarence, the angel in "It's A Wonderful Life," said, "No man is a failure who has friends." Amen.