The Twelve Days of Christmas - Someone Loves You

I am a woman who has been blessed with extraordinary friendships. I've had solid friendships with men and women, but of course, once the men find themselves a mate, they disappear. That begs the question, can men and women be real friends, but that is for discussion in another post. With the men out of the picture, that leaves the women, and I have an extraordinary story to tell you about my friend, Karla.

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My husband found a ceramic tree for sale on the internet. He said, "Hey! That's just like the tree you have! You could sell it - it's vintage!" I knew with that statement that he didn't understand the value of my ceramic tree. It is one of my priceless possessions, along with the story that goes with it. I did not pick it up at a box store. It has a unique history.

I still have friends that I made in elementary school. One of them, Karla, has been my friend since we were about eleven years old. If memory serves me correctly, I think we were in grade six when we got to know one another. We went through school together, hung out at parties, she was my Biology 11 lab partner, and we would get squeamish together about frog guts and so on. I was her maid of honour when she got married at such a ridiculously young age we didn't even realize how young we were. She is still married, by the way, to the same man. That's what an incredible soul she is.

As happens with friendships, sometimes we drift in and out of one another's lives, which is what happened to us. She got married. I went off to university. She had a baby. I partied my face off at university. You get the picture. Our lives went in different directions for a while. We always kept in touch at Christmas - exchanging Christmas cards and catching up on what was happening in our life. We would see each other at grad reunion parties, weddings of mutual friends and things like that, but for the most part, we weren't in one another's lives anymore.

Fast forward a few years, and I got married. Fast forward a few more years, and I got divorced. I was thoroughly heartbroken. It seemed to me that the whole world must be feeling my pain. My dog died a few days after he, "who-shall-not-be-named," left, and another friend of mine said she thought my dog died of a broken heart because he felt everything I felt. It did seem as though that dog lived through me. I was a complete wreck when my ex-husband walked out. My pain was beckoning the universe as I had never felt before. I was suffering complete agony within.

A few days after my ex left and my dog died, my phone rang out of the blue. It was Karla. We hadn't spoken to one another in a long time, and I was delighted to hear her voice on the other end of the line. I asked what made her call. She said that she woke up that morning and said to her husband, "TJ needs me. Something is wrong. I've got to call her."

Can you believe that? Of course, you can. How did she know I needed her? I would never have called her to ask for help. As I stated yesterday, we, as people, as souls, are inexplicably intertwined. There is no coincidence. You are reading this for a reason, and it's touching a part of you somehow. 

So, Karla phoned me, and we talked and talked. She said she was coming for a visit to stay with me for a few days to help me through this difficult time. She came, and we had the best time together. Well, I did, anyway. I sure appreciated her company. I cried a ton and poured my heart out to her. She listened. She didn't judge me. She just loved me and was there when I needed her most. I didn't even have to ask her. She just knew. We didn't do anything extraordinary - we just hung out together as we did all those years ago. We went shopping, made healthy meals, and oh, did I mention that I cried a ton and talked her ear off.

Now, back to the ceramic tree. Karla made that ceramic tree for me and gave it to me for Christmas about a gazillion years ago. We were discussing it the other day, and we think we might have been eighteen years old. That timeline does make my ceramic tree vintage. But as I mentioned before, it's also priceless, and my story tells you why. I bring my ceramic tree out every year and place it in a prominent position in my home. It's in perfect condition (just like Karla!). I remember the love, selflessness and intuition of my friend every time I look at it.

I can't recall where I first heard the following statement, but it has stayed with me and helped me through some terrible times. I'll leave it with you to think about.

"Someone loves you more than you know."

That's it for now. Have yourself the best day. I'll speak to you again tomorrow.

TJCorman