If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love friends for their sake rather than for our own.
-- Charlotte Bronte (1816-1855) English writer
The most I can do for my friend is simply to be his friend.
-- Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), American author and philosopher
Have you ever met someone who was so much like you it seemed you were both made from the same mold? And have you ever met more than one person like that?
I am very blessed and fortunate to have many people I can call my friends, people I with whom I like to spend time, people who will pray for me and be there for me when I need some support and who know I will do the same for them. Most of these people and I have a few things in common that are the basis for our friendships, and what really makes it great is that I have different things in common with different people. My circle of friends is a diverse group. Like I said, I'm blessed.
I now have three people in my life who are so much like me that 'scary' doesn't begin to define it. And I'm not talking about my kids - that's genetics. They're supposed to be like me (or like the WGH, depending on what time of day it is). We're talking grace of God here.
First, there's the WMVR. Ten years ago this June, she came to work in my department at our former employer's office. Within a week we were finishing each other's sentences. We started to say we were two bodies sharing the same brain. (You met her, through me, on her birthday.) Over the years we've discovered there are a lot of differences between us. She loves surprises. I hate them. She can listen to music with lyrics while she's working. I can't stand the distraction. She likes oldies music. Well, okay, I like oldies music too, but I can only take it in small doses. Still, despite those differences, the discrepancy in our ages and the distance between us (now that she's moved to another state), we remain friends, and we still talk (and laugh - a lot) as often as we can. Because we do the same type of work, we call each other often, sometimes to share something funny, sometimes to ask for help.
As I mentioned in my first post about her, it was the WMVR who encouraged me to finish my first book. I probably wouldn't BE a "real writer" (see Lonnie's guest post from yesterday) if it weren't for her. I needed someone to grab me by the collar, shake me violently and say, "You are a good writer! Now go write something!" Okay, so she really didn't shake me physically. It was a metaphor. But she was the kick in the pants that I needed, and because I took that leap of faith and scrambled out on that limb, I have now met another completely different group of people that I wouldn't have otherwise known, and have been blessed with a few more good friends in the bargain.
Until about two years ago I didn't think I'd meet anyone who was more like me than the WMVR. Ha-ha! Boy, was I wrong. Enter J.T. Ellison. If the WMVR and I were once two bodies sharing the same brain, J.T. and I are twins separated at birth. We have this really freaky connection, both on an emotional and intellectual level. We think the same things at the same time. And I'm not exaggerating (you'll back me up on this, right, J.T.?).
J.T. has been so good for me and my writing career. She's so full of energy that I can't help but be influenced by it. That, and she knows what the heck she's doing. I'm a better writer now than I could ever have hoped to be, and with J.T.'s help and encouragement, along with the rest of the BMWs, I feel like the only way I can go is up. If I were to tune in our psychic wonder-twin powers, I'd probably find she'd say something similar about me. But I don't love her because of what she does for me, I love her because of who she is - she's one of the most genuine people I've ever met, she's adorably shy until you get her going, and then she just lights a place up with her smile, her sharp wit and her knowledge of the game. I get a charge out of just being around her.
Life is full of surprises (thankfully not the kind I don't like). To wit, J.T. and I have very recently come in contact with a lovely gentleman, another writer like us. I've posted a little about (and by) him here in the past couple of weeks. His name is Brett, he's a terrific writer, and he gives great advice on writing, even though he'll insist it's not so much - he's very gracious and modest. We just discovered yesterday that his birthday is the day after mine, and I did neglect to make a big deal out of this so I'm doing it now - J.T.'s was Sunday (Happy Birthday, Sis!).
So, here we are, the three of us, all writers, our birthdays are all within a month of each other, and Brett has started popping off things in our communicades that have led J.T. and I to believe (and swear) that Brett is our long-lost triplet brother. Poor guy, as if he doesn't have enough to worry about with his first novel coming out early next year - he's just been saddled with two headstrong little sisters who might just wear him out with advice, questions and encouragement for the next ... hmmm, nope, there's probably not a statute of limitations on that one. I do hope that someday I will have the opportunity to meet Brett face-to-face. J.T. will get the chance at the upcoming ThrillerFest at the end of June. In the meantime, I've roped Brett into doing an interview with me here on Lunch in a couple of weeks.
I'm going to sit back now and revel a little in my good fortune. I think someone needs to break that mold, though, because I'm not sure whether the world can handle anybody else who's just like me.
Music of the Moment: Overture op. 26 by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy
Mellow and lovely. Goes well with the rain.
It's a good day to crawl under an afghan and read a book. Or watch a movie. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is sitting on my desk in its Netflix envelope, waiting for me to get some free time. Soon, Jimmy, soon.
=) JB
