There are so many things I treasure about my close friends that it’s hard to name just a few. Women around the world know this, I think. They understand that time spent with girlfriends has an un-nameable quality. There’s something we can’t quite put our manicured fingers on. (I know, I know, mine aren’t manicured, but most of theirs are!) These elements are nearly univeral. Laughter. Wine. Honesty. Wine. Soul Bearing Conversation. Light-Hearted Companionship. Understanding. Wine. Affirmation. Assurance that we are definitely right and that other person is definitely wrong. And, we look fine. Skinny even. With good hair. Whatever it is that happens there, when girlfriends gather, it touches our souls.
Men, on the other hand, well, I can’t really speak to that. My husband is never, ever going to give a lengthy discourse about bromance and the importance of manly friendships; nor will he mention the touching of souls; it’s very safe to say he won’t ever publish any kind of touchy-feely men’s book. He loves his friends. I know this. But he’s never gonna say it.
As a sort-of related aside, I recently listened to someone, very unlike my husband, pitch a book idea to an editor. Both the author and editor were men – and the conversation went something like this:
“So, what I’m thinking is this. I’m thinking that as men we need to get in touch with our feminine side. We’ve really lost the ability to share deeply with one another in a really real way.
“Oh, right, I’m with you. Sounds like a good idea. Tell me more.”
“Well, my book will address how we men fail each other regularly because we don’t open ourselves up to those woman-like feelings and share them with each other.”
“That sounds like a great concept. I’d like to see more.”
Huh? Seriously. This really happened. And I sat there thinking, “What? What?” Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for men sharing feelings and sending flowers, and possibly even buying me a convertible one day, but that? That’s a great book idea? Lord give me strength. Help me persevere through the wilderness, the impossible-to-understand world that is publishing. Amen.
Okay, back to the story.
Although my husband won’t be writing a book like that anytime soon, or ever, he does have a close-knit group of friends. Some of these guys gave up their weekend—time they could’ve spent with their families, or golfing, or taking a really long nap—to repair a leak in the roof of our carriage house. In the beginning, it was a leaking, rotting, termite-filled hazard.
And then they did this.
And this.
And now it looks like this.
Without ever saying a word about feelings or authenticity or the importance of sharing, these guys stepped up and said it all.
Fred, Brent, Brad & Kurt: Thank you. I’ll say it on my husband’s behalf: You guys ROCK!
