My Friends: Reid and Paul

I felt torn. Part of me wanted a weekend away at the ocean with my friends Reid and Paul, and another wanted Dave and Evelyn to go. Being a mother and wife are newer roles for me, as has been the level of commitment I feel to them. So to just hop in the car and take a weekend away with some buddies does not feel as simple as it once was.

But I’m doing it. And I’m so glad. Reid and Paul have never seen our cabin, and besides doing a podcast together during quarantine, the three of us amigos have struggled to scrap a weekend together where we’re all free. That said, February 17th is in the books! We’ll meet at my house and from there the three of us will hit the road.

Not in my ’84 Vanagon like the good old days, but in a commuter Acura MDX where the trip’s end will land us in actual beds. I imagine we’ll talk philosophy and psychology stuff, maybe go out to eat, and take a beach walk. But what else? What other fun, spontaneous things will we do?

Back in the day, we did dares. Like “Ask the waitress for a whole pitcher of gin and tonics,” or “Ask the barista for the nearest Scrapbooking store,” when right behind the person stood signage with taller letters than us stating “Scrapbook”.

Spanning three decades, we come in all shapes and sizes, but like I said in the first episode of our podcast about our friendship, “We kept saying yes.”

Want to go on a road trip? While others from our graduate program initially said yes, only the three of us followed through. Then we followed through again.

My aunt, who has since passed, was concerned about the dynamic, “You mean they’re married, and they spend time with you without their wives.” “Yeah,” I said, matter of factly. “I would never let my husband do that.” Because she just couldn’t believe the dynamic could just be platonic. It had to be weird, right?

Yep! For 15 years, the yesses haven’t stopped coming. And I can’t imagine they ever will.

That they loved me at my very worst means so much to me. Because despite feeling broken, sad, and pathetic, they had eyes of compassion and care, which showed me how to be with that part of myself when I couldn’t.

I message Reid weekly on my Marco Polo app. Usually, I update him on the weather, as he does me, and about our families, client work, and movie or book recommendations. I love our check-ins, and sometimes when I open up that broken part surfaces. He never shuns me as I fear.

And Paul too. He’s always there. Although not as frequent, it’s just as consistent, thoughtful, and he has my back. A few weeks ago, when overwhelmed with my website edits, and I called him. One ring, he answered. And then he took the next hour to walk me step by step, hearing my vision and providing his feedback. Once off the phone, I sent the email and felt night and day different about the project.