My Friend Leslee and being vulnerable

While living in Hawaii 30 years ago, I got a nice Canon 35mm camera taking many pictures of scenic tropical vistas.  After a few months I realized that my photographs were mostly landscapes and not of people I knew.  In a way, that is still somewhat true today in my Gratitude blog postings being more about things than about people. 

I recently decided to write more about my friends that I am grateful to have in my life.   As I reflected writing on Leslee or Charlie this morning, my feelings became edgy and fearful.  Further reflection revealed that writing about my friends who love me a lot leaves me feeling vulnerable lighting up my abandonment issues from childhood.

My father chose material goods over friendship.  He had many toys and few friends to play with.  That was clearly a lonely way to live.  My mother never had a good friend that I can think of.  She would golf with one other woman or go for walks with neighbors in her later life, but she never had a reliable friend or over someone that came over to visit at her house.  With those role models, it is easy to see where writing about friends brings up some fear/anxiety. 

My life is differs greatly from the lives my parents lived.   They had successful careers with few friends.     I live on a fixed income, don’t work and have wonderful friends that care about me very much.  It is a non-material kind of wealth.

A year ago when I dropped out sight whilst using crack cocaine, my friend Leslee came by with the Bellevue police to make sure I was still alive.  That was the most loving thing a friend has ever done for me.

Leslee is an avid hiker in fantastic physical condition.  She has hiked down and up the Grand Canyon on numerous occasions with no extra physical conditioning—she is just that fit.  On the Eastside she regularly hikes Mt Si or Tiger Mountain on short notice.

In my case, Leslee goes for walks with me at the Bellevue Square Mall.   She is not one for conspicuous consumption nor even being indoors.  She does walk the mall because she loves me, knows that I need the exercise and wants to spend time with me.  It makes me cry tears of joy while writing how blessed I am to have Leslee for a friend.  No wonder I write about things—writing about friends brings up intense emotional issues!

I am grateful for my friend Leslee.  We have carried the 12-step message to prison together for years.  Each trip with her makes my life better.  Thank you Leslee.