Forming bonds that last

NEW CHAPTER

A few weekends ago, I helped host a bridal shower for my cousin Jenny at my “aunt” Dinah’s house. Aunt Dinah is actually a cousin and not an aunt. But she’s always operated in my life as an aunt rather than the second cousin that she is, so I branded her as my aunt long ago.

Our relationship has always been a special one. I grew up just down the street from where she and my “uncle” Billy live. She used to put breakfast sandwiches in her mailbox for me and my brother to pick up on our way to school, and her home is a treasure trove of memories for me. The forever-long blue kitchen bar where we sometimes gathered and sometimes she had a cherry cheesecake (my favorite, as Dinah knew). The pond where we fished and the basketball goal in their driveway where we played H.O.R.S.E.

Then there were the conversations we had. How Dinah and Billy always listened so fervently to the concerns of a little girl. The eternal things we discussed and how they nurtured my faith at such a young age. How they taught me to pray when my heart was heavy. These are things they did for me then and still do for me now. And the beauty is that it’s not extraordinary in their minds. It’s just living the life they’ve been called to live. Being genuine, good people.

Going back to their house recently brought to my mind the significance of the bonds we share in this life. How through the course of our lives we bond with different people at different times and for so many different reasons.

Life is built on these deep connections with different people. We are built with a yearning for these connections. Just think of the bond between mother and child. The knowing, even at birth, that we each have a place. We enter this world with a shared bond.

Sometimes the bonds we share are with the families we are born into, and other times the bonds are with the family we make. The loyal friends who hold us up. Those who offer us their allegiance.

When we’re young, playground friendships are easy, but I think as we get older, we realize that these meaningful bonds are not so easily made. It takes more than common likes and interests. It takes being vulnerable, being real and being willing to bare your heart to someone else.

And sometimes life has a way of forcing your hand, laying you bare, and you find yourself surrounded by genuine friends who are not scared of messiness, tragedy and imperfection. Those who hold you close and don’t shudder when life gets hard. Those are the bonds we need in good times and bad. Those are the relationships that sustain us at all times.

I think of my dear friend Jenny.

We were new friends when her mom suddenly passed away, and the pain bonded us together. It was like pressing a fast-forward button on our friendship. The realness of life and loss accelerated us past the surface things. We now call each other Soul Sisters. And when my dad passed away, she was one of the first people I opened my door to because I knew she shared in my pain. We faced the ugliness of life hand-in-hand.

I love how blogger and author Jen Hatmaker explains these bonds. She says, “Loyal friends are worth ten thousand others. If you have a loyal little tribe, I mean it: hang on for dear life. Care deeply for those relationships and be a good friend to them. Be safe, be trustworthy, be ever in their corner. Take their middle of the night calls. Pledge your eternal anger toward their enemies and love their babies. Cheer on their marriages, and be there when those pieces fall apart.”

My friend Jenny is a beautiful example of the sustaining power of relationships. She is a part of the “loyal little tribe” of women I’ve found myself surrounded by. Women who’ve walked difficult journeys and are willing to be real. To be real about loss. To be real about infertility. To be real about imperfection. To be real about depression. And, most importantly, to be gracious with one another and to treasure one another’s stories. To hold them tight and consider them precious. It is such an extraordinary gift to be given, but it requires you to give equally in exchange.

Returning to Dinah and Billy’s house that day restored something in me. As I walked through the halls and carefully examined old family photos, I was reminded of a bond that I’d thought I’d lost. There has been so much lost. It is easy to feel lost without the comforts of parents or a family home to return to when life is uneasy. When nothing in my life looks or feels familiar, lost comes easily.

That day, those family photos and that place served to remind me that although life is so different than I ever could have imagined, and at times, it feels so foreign, there is a tribe of people who consider me family and those loving, deep bonds can sustain me. If we give freely of ourselves, sharing our losses and taking on the burden of someone else’s loss, too, then we can find our way. Because life isn’t a solitary journey. Life is better together.

Stephanie Jordan is a local journalist, marketer and blogger.

Her blog can be found at www.stephanienetherton.blogspot.com, and she can be contacted at [email protected].