Home » Friends » It’s What Nourishes Me

It’s What Nourishes Me

Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.

— Virginia Woolf

I have come to realise that without my friends and family, I am lost.  The words used for me are often “resilient” or “strong” or “capable”…. There is only one way for me to be that.  To connect with my friends and family when I need the extra strength to move forward.

I have always been this way, apparently!

My mother likes to tell me a story, of which I have zero recollection by the way, of a punishment she doled out to me when I was, I dunno… 4? 5? 6?  I’ll have to ask her.  Turns out it was the ultimate, primo, perfect punishment for one such as me.  You see, I was a biter.  I wasn’t happy with you or what you said or did?  I’d bite.  Drove my mother batty.  She threatened more than once to break my teeth with a hammer… ‘course she didn’t.  (And by the way… I STILL bite – so it may have worked only short-term, Mom.  If we’re wrestling or I’m being held down and I feel I can’t break free – I’ll bite you!  Consider yourself warned…)

Anyway, back to my story.  I bit, probably Dougie Dixon, my neighbour, once too many times.  My mother decided that my punishment was for me to stay in my yard, no friends could come over, not even cross the line (grass) and I couldn’t go anywhere for THREE DAYS! (She later realised that one and half days probably would have sufficed as it became more of a punishment to her as I moped and whined and complained.)  THREE DAYS!  It was torture.  No friends?  None?  Not one?  Be alone… They came to the house and my mother told them… “No, Dale can’t come and play with you.  You see, she is an animal and bites…”  Oh, the horror…

Why am I boring you all with this now?  Because I was feeling rather “meh” and frankly, lonely, these past two days… It’s amazing how you can share your house with three young adults and still feel like you are all alone.

This afternoon, I went Bob Burrowes’ funeral (my late dad’s girflriend’s baby brother).  Like my dad, like Mick, every single picture of Bob in the video they had playing on a loop showed his big-ass grin.  This guy, gone too soon via massive heart attack at the age of 67, had a lust for life and people just like Dad and Mick.  The number of people who showed up is a testament to this guy.

Many knew both my dad and Mick so there was some reminiscing going on.  Moments of sadness mingled with smiles of remembrance.

I left from there to shoot down to Montreal to join friends for Giselle’s birthday supper.  And THIS is the point of my going on and on… Jeez… Written diarrhea anyone?

Surrounding myself with people who love me and who I love is what nourishes me.  Keeps me from losing my mind.  From finding myself going too deeply into sadness.  I am blessed.  I can’t help wonder if that is what was missing from Anthony Bourdain’s life.  From Robin William’s.  From so many others who took their own lives.

And, because I can’t always be serious.  As I was parked two streets over and two blocks ahead, Dany and Giselle gave me a lift to close to my car.  I insisted they not go out of their way.  I got out of the car, crossed the two streets and…. promptly walked north instead of south.  Three blocks later, I think… jeez… didn’t walk that far to get to the restaurant, did I?  Turned around and started worrying that my car had been towed.  Dumbass.  I was further south than I thought.  That’ll learn me to pay attention to, not only the street I am parked on, but the cross street too!

Julie mentioned a fabulous App called “Waze” that tells you where the cops are, the potholes, which streets are suddenly blocked off, which bridges are closed… so I used that and realise that… yay!  Despite seeing the tail end of some fireworks (effing annual competition…) my bridge home was NOT closed…

A few of the 10,000 things that make me happy and grateful

61. Finding reasons for getting together

62. Nourishment of friends

63. Finding my car

64. No closed bridges on my way home

65. Great readers who also supply me with love and friendship (yes, Frank, this does include you!)


40 thoughts on “It’s What Nourishes Me

  1. Q,

    It is the joys to which you hold dear that defines you. And this, m’dear . . is your definition. Plainly, poetically. And I might as well add . . bitingly. And did you know it’s a proven fact that biters get noticed? Hell, if you bite someone, shit is getting done! It may not be in the fashion to which the biter desires, but still . . .

    To those joys, to those happy occasions and to biting anyone who gets in the way . . .

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dale, I loved your post. Friendship is very important and the older I get the more I realise that real friends are the ones who step up and take hold of you when things are going badly. They are then the friends who will sincerely be pleased for you when things go well. Oh, and how that walking in the wrong direction of yours resonated. Glad someone as bright and talented as you does the same stupid things I do – you know what I mean? I will send an electronic wave to Canada from Seattle when I am there in a few months time. Going on my own. Terrified. It must be done. Jilly

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Jilly. Friendship, I have come to realise is more than important – and yes, especially as we get older!
      Seriously… What a doorknob move on my part (wish I could say it’s my first time…)
      As for travelling on your own! Don’t be terrified! Exalt! I went to Tuscany ALL. BY. MYSELF. in September, 2016. I was scared s***less. For a minute. Then, I was totally free and comfortable and happy… I send you the same feelings…


  3. I didn’t think your post rambled at all. I loved that you were/are a biter. I can identify with that, though those times I’ve sunk my teeth in deep have been in instances of extreme self-defence.
    But I can’t identify with the people-thing. We all are different, hey. I need solitude; people faze me. Crowds (anything beyond ten or so) causes me a claustrophobic reaction. Like I’m being suffocated (probably the reason I used to get blitzed out of my head when I went clubbing, just to cope with the people, though I love dancing, have always loved dancing). I often wonder if I’m really odd, to like, to need, to be alone. Can I blame it on my childhood? (No I wasn’t an only child.) I remember my father freaking when I said of doing a 13-mile walk across the marshes. ALONE. It was bliss. Invigorating. All batteries charged. Viva la difference, yea?

    Liked by 1 person

    • We are indeed all different, Crispina (Thank God!) And much as I need people, I also need my alone time. I thought I would freak out travelling alone two years ago. I didn’t. I found that I can be more than ok on my own.
      So no, you are far from odd. I know many peeps who need and prefer alone time.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Dear Dale,

    I’m happy to have added you to my list of friends. I will stay away from your bite though. 😉 As I learned it therapy the best way to exacerbate depression is to isolate. I glad you take the time to do what nourishes you and then share it for it nourishes the rest of us. ❤



    Liked by 1 person

  5. My Dad was 67 too when he died from a massive heart attack in 1996. My BIL was only 55, less than a year older than me, and my catalyst for visiting my brother in NZ in 2010, the only member of my family I feel close to.
    Loving memories, some bringing sad smiles.
    As an aside, I bit my sister, so my Mum bit me. I still have the scar, but I never bit anyone again!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I’ve been reading here long enough to realize the role/importance of your friends – so cheers to your mom’s punishment! On the other hand, I had no idea that you are a biter. YIKES! … and yes, your acknowledgment of me in your list made me smile!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. So true. Yes, we are blessed to have friends to our joy and sorrow. Loved this. Every moment, especially your punishment. Even today, if I woke to no friends, I’m sure I’d bite my lip, and then start something new to find some new ones. Have a great week.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Absolutely. I know some folks are not people-persons but that is not my case (obviously).
      If I woke to no friends, if definitely go out to find more, too!
      You too, have a wonderful one.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Wonderful for you to need and find friends. Your mother is a wise woman who loves you. As for me I like being alone until I feel a need for human interaction. Then I go out and revel in all the life going on outside my door – human, animal and plant.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I’m stuck on the living in a house with three young adults and still feeling alone part. This aging thing can really hit hard, right? They have so much ahead of them–can’t seem to “feel” where we’re at. I’m so sorry about your friend–makes me think the moments matter more than all else . . .

    Liked by 1 person

    • It sucks sometimes. They are learning who they are and only occasionally need the likes of a mother. I guess it’s normal. But when you’re on your own, you can’t commiserate with a spouse! As you know…
      The moments do so matter…


Comments are closed.