I have always known that my life would be much less rich without my friends. At Thanksgiving a few years ago my friend Jinx made a toast, “To friends who are family, and to family who are friends.” This means much more to me today, as five members of my immediate family have died since that toast, and I am now the only remaining child of deceased parents. I thank the universe for my cousins and my friends.

A friend tells you that you might want to ‘talk’ to someone. A good friend gives you the name of her beloved therapist.

Friends are there when you need them, certainly, and I’d go to the mat for any of them. I feel they’d do the same for me. Everyone talks about the fun we have with friends, or the hard times they’ve helped us though, but it struck me today how my friends make me a better person.

A friend will call bullshit on you when you deserve it. A good friend will call it, and give you feedback in such a way that you don’t get pissed off and sulk.

A friend tells you that you might want to ‘talk’ to someone. A good friend gives you the name of her beloved therapist.

A friend listens to your tales of woe and joins the pity party to commiserate. A good friend tells you that you’re better than this, that it’s early in the game, that there is hope. And sends you articles to get you moving in the right direction. There will be no slacking off. No-sir-ee-bub.

My friends, without probably even realizing it, inspire me by their examples. Bravery in the face of grave medical issues, perseverance in times of despair, being grounded when faced with great loss, having patience and faith in trying situations, giving back much more than they take. Honesty. Never giving up. And laughing, early and often.

I probably don’t tell them often enough how amazed and grateful I am to have them in my life. Thank you, my friends. You make me a better person. And you still have a big job to do on me, so keep up the good work.

Deborah