A few weeks ago my brother sent me a link to a San Francisco Chronicle essay written by Jon Carroll. "A little something about friendship" is well worth reading in its entirety.
A particular statement caught my eye, as it rang so true: "... one of the advantages of getting old: people stand the test of time, and you're pretty sure by this point that they genuinely have your best interests at heart."
I heartily agree with this comment. In fact, many decades passed before insecurity (masked by aloofness) dropped away, allowing me to understand the priceless value of being a friend, of having a friend. I have become more open and honest with others and in doing so, something magnificent has happened. My circle of dear and true friends has enlarged; my life seems more blessed than ever.
At the end of the e-mail linking Carroll's article, my brother wrote, "Thank you for being my friend." I am quite certain this note went on to many other dear and loyal friends of his; even so, tears came when I read those heartfelt words.
By action, word and deed I know my brother cares deeply about me and I’m certain he is aware of the respect, pride and love I have for him. To know one is also considered "friend" is an added gift.
A friend is one who know you as you are,
understands where you have been,
accepts what you have become,
and still, gently allows you to grow.