Sally is far more selfless than I. She constantly rushes to help whichever friend within a thousand-mile radius has broken an ankle, sprained a back, or come down with the flu — even if she hasn't yet had her own flu shot. Me, I'm a hypochondriac (and probably basically lazy); I stay away.
And she always finds the flimsiest excuses to shower people with lavish, numerous gifts. (Me? See 'tightwad' reference above.)
I sold my house several years ago and bought a condo, the eighth move of my life. I could not be bothered with all those home maintenance responsibilities, either doing them myself or finding someone to take care of them — mowing the lawn, trimming the shrubs, weeding the garden, painting the shutters, repairing the roof, repaving the driveway, fixing the dripping faucets, shoveling snow off the walk … the list was endless and daunting. Sally, however, who was born in the house where she still lives and has no intention of moving in the foreseeable future, thrives on what I consider all that drudgery. Though how she finds the time, I can't imagine since she's still working part-time. Is it any surprise to learn that I couldn't wait to retire?
Sally is a very private person, whereas I am apt to blab every detail of my life — and maybe yours. Well, not really. At least I'd like to think I'd keep your secrets. But with Sally, there’s no doubt whatsoever. If you tell her something in confidence, even the threat of hanging wouldn't get her to reveal it.
Despite her many admirable attributes, she does have a flaw or two, one of which is her chronic tardiness. It’s not that she doesn’t leave her house in time for any appointments. It’s just that she always seems to have errands to run on the way. She has to go to the bank, the grocery store, the dry cleaner, the drug store … and she never seems to calculate how much time these detours will eat up. I must say, though, she’s been getting much better about this lately — which is very disconcerting. Because I always assume she’ll be late, I take my time; and Sally ends up waiting for me.
We do share the same basic values and the same religion (though I’m much more critical of it than she is). Sally truly is a beautiful person (unlike the 'beautiful people' who bug me), and I believe that associating with her has made me a finer human being. What better qualification for friendship can there be?
By the way, Sally isn't her real name. She’d be very embarrassed if I revealed her identity. (See — I can keep a secret!)
© Rose Madeline Mula for SeniorWomen.com
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