The value of need

Oh, it's good to be back. Sorry I have been away so long, but life is sometimes too hectic to bear and I needed a break.
Where to begin?
Ah, yes - the value of need.
I recently lost my grandfather to the awful "C" word. He was the last of the set of four we're all given. I realized in the moment he left us that I had never dealt with losing my dad's parents or of course, my grandma - Grandpa's better half. Numbness hung on me for days. I didn't answer my phone. I tried to smile and not talk about it and yet the tears came anyway.
Even though my mind could not grasp the reality of the situation, my heart would not hold in the pain. It leaked out my eyes when I turned my back. There was the moment I dropped the egg on the counter. Or the time I was waiting at the gas station in line and some jerk pulled in from the other side and cut me off. And my personal favorite, the day I forgot my grocery list. There I was, standing in produce, the young stock boy looking at me surely convinced I was having a breakdown, tears streaming over my reddened cheeks.
I had been to the funeral. I had boxed up he and my grandma's life remnants, a lamp, a purse, a lawnmower, and brought them home. I had said my piece in front of the casket, knees knocking with anxiety and I had cried. I thought I was done.
Then I came home, curled up on my couch and realized what had happened.
I had been there, my strength coming through, for the time it needed to be and now I was...I didn't even know. I felt weak, I felt alone, I felt...needy.
And I hated it.
I went back to not answering the phone, but in typical fashion, life knows when you're down. Sometimes I believe it to be a bully, kicking you when you're low, and this time was no exception. Storm after storm, the rains came and would not leave. It was most assuredly hurricane season.
Then two weeks later, my phone rang. It was a close friend. I slid my finger across the screen and said "hello?"
Her first words were: "I'm here and it's going to be okay."
Halfheartedly I said, "I know."
She stopped me. "No, You are always there for me and when I was scared and down you said it would be okay because there wasn't any other choice, no second option. If it was true then, it's true now."
I felt the tears fall before I knew they were coming. As if she could read my mind she continued, "You're not weak. You're human. And it's okay to need people. That's what we're here for. You have so many people who love you and you are always there for them, now let us be there for you too."
I will never be able to thank her enough, this wonderful woman whom I'm lucky enough to call a friend, for that day. Being a strong woman is to walk a tiny and very hazardous line. Strong women are not allowed to feel like others do. We are supposed to have thick skin and be able to take the callousness of others. We even tell ourselves that and smile even when the jokes hurt and hit too close to home. People think you're wise and you never fall. You never cry. You never need.
But on that day, I learned something more about being strong, something my friend already knew. The irony is that she learned it from me.
True strength is knowing when to ask for help, when to need people and when to fall because you know someone will catch you.
I'm am still not all better, my heart aches everyday with years of loss and hurt I had packed away. The trunks I have carried with me are now open, laying bare my soul and my friends, my family, they stand guard while I sift through the memories. They protect me while I lay my armor down. And I need them to be there.
And I know, because of that need, it won't drive them away but instead, it will bind us together.
Long ago I weeded my life's flowerbed of toxic friends and left only the most beautiful of flowers. Even on days when they appeared withered or have been bitten by an early frost, I can look at them and smile because I know the beauty and joy they bring to my life. I am surrounded by beautiful souls and in this, I have managed to hold on to my grandparents. Their love, their joy, their life - it's celebrated in what I share with these extraordinary people.
So thank you to my friends, my family who let me lean, the friends who hold me up and those who love me when I am the most unmanageable of sorts. My heart could swell to five times it's size and never be big enough to hold all the love I have for you.
Peace, Ang
Listening to: my children's laughter...is there anything better?