My friends were the last people to see us before we drove away. It wasn’t my family who busted ass with us to move; it was them. Faithful them, loving them. They are beautiful.
When someone comes from a toxic family like mine, good friendships are precious. We spend holidays together, home school together, we plan camping trips, hiking adventures, and cry together. I have great friends in spades, five hundred miles away.
I hit all three goals from last week. My last one, I hit as I rode my bike into town for my session. Coming in sweaty, ever the good student. I completed my tasks. Check.
Settling into her office, Max jumped on my lap. We covered the week’s events, and how I had TWO good weeks in a row.
“You know, the holidays are approaching us”, Jill starts.
“Yeah,” I reply, not giving much thought to it, assuming we would be moving on.
“What were your holidays like in WA?”
I describe to her how idyllic my friendships are. We plan our holidays so we can be together. We coined the term Framily. We are gangsters of friendship.
She replied, “You know, you aren’t going to have those experiences this year. It is only going to be you four”.
Instantly, the tears well up. The pain of leaving my people fills my body, and runs down my cheeks. I fight back the sorrow, but it’s useless. Grabbing a tissue, I have nothing to say except, “You are great at making a girl cry, Jill”.
“My job is to help you see the road ahead, so you aren’t blindsided. I’d like you to start thinking of some new traditions you can include in your holidays. So this time joyous, not lonely. Remember, you still have your friends; you can call on them anytime you need. To start making this place your home, brainstorm on new memories you can create”.
“That will take me awhile”, I blubber through tears and snot. Thinking to myself, I don’t want new fucking traditions, I want my old ones. I want my friends.
What are your favorite traditions, maybe you can help me make new ones.