Dear
Today is my dear friend's birthday. The one who got me writing, and blogging. The one I once worked with, the one who thought I was funny. (Always wonderful to be seen as one intends.) The one who married D's friend, and moved away, and we grew closer through our writing. The fine, funny, strong, intelligent person who keeps on amazing me with her persistent endurance and bottomless curiosity, as well as how good a mum she is to her dear little girl, also shares a birthweek with me.
Growing up, I also shared a birthweek with my benighted father. Probably ensured I would never seriously consider astrology anything more accurate than fortune cookie advice. The other lesson is, never tell someone that they are "so much like" a person they don't like, unless you intend to annoy and insult. Even then, it's a low blow. Told all my life how much I was like my father only taught me to feel isolated and misunderstood, and surrounded by idiots. And to turn my anger in.
I prefer to think I am rather like Moira. Not in details, we have made different choices, have very different tastes - especially in music, but at heart, we have much in common. We struggle with early damage, emotional kinks, oversensitivity, but have both managed to turn this into a great love, and insight. I flatter myself to compare myself to her, of course, but if I weren't worthwhile, she wouldn't have stuck so long, because she is that smart. The true glory of the best of friends, they hold up shining mirrors to each other's souls, and admit no undue self effacement.
One of these years, we will be at a place where we can get together for the entire week and have a whole holiday. One of these decades.
Growing up, I also shared a birthweek with my benighted father. Probably ensured I would never seriously consider astrology anything more accurate than fortune cookie advice. The other lesson is, never tell someone that they are "so much like" a person they don't like, unless you intend to annoy and insult. Even then, it's a low blow. Told all my life how much I was like my father only taught me to feel isolated and misunderstood, and surrounded by idiots. And to turn my anger in.
I prefer to think I am rather like Moira. Not in details, we have made different choices, have very different tastes - especially in music, but at heart, we have much in common. We struggle with early damage, emotional kinks, oversensitivity, but have both managed to turn this into a great love, and insight. I flatter myself to compare myself to her, of course, but if I weren't worthwhile, she wouldn't have stuck so long, because she is that smart. The true glory of the best of friends, they hold up shining mirrors to each other's souls, and admit no undue self effacement.
One of these years, we will be at a place where we can get together for the entire week and have a whole holiday. One of these decades.
Labels: Moira
Posted by Zhoen on Tuesday, February 23, 2010
4 comments:
Oh I wish I was your Moira. Beautiful friend.
I was always compared to my aunt - to whom I bore no resemblance whatever.
I like the image of the shining mirror. It's true, and it's also how it should be between a child and a parent. But so often isn't.
Melinda,
Welcome.
RtheS
Yup. Probably some physical resemblance, maybe to her when she was your age at the time, and people just don't think.
This post is a fine birthday present, I think.
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