Last night I was invited to an event with my friend Jen. It was a fundraiser she purchased a table for.
The organization buys things for a local, well-healed school district. At the event, the organization’s chair explained that of the thousands of jobs they purchased the school his favorite thing was the third 3D & carver printer for the maker lab at the middle school.
Before the meal, people drank wine and looked at art. As each of Jen’s friends arrived, they asked how old my children were. I explained that I don’t have children. Each time Jen would jump in as explain how we met and whatever I had in common with the person asking. She was trying to lubricate the conversation as best she could.
One of the attendees at the event heard a journalist about how I am from Highland Park. As a side note, Highland Park is known for being the fancy suburb was Michael Jordan’s estate was in Chicago. It is also known for having a large Jewish community. Overhearing this conversation the attendee spent fifteen minutes explaining to me how much she likes Jewish people. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’m not Jewish.
Later when someone was explaining the superiority of the Highland Park library to all other local libraries, I concurred and shared a story about Constance at the library. She relied upon, “Hey! You are a mom! You said you weren’t, but you are!” Why she thought I’d lie about that I don’t know. I clarified that I had been, but Constance passed.
We then went on to have a long conversation about brain tumors and aneurysms. One mom bought some radiation canceling sticker for all of her kids' phones. It sounded like nonsense, but we all nodded politely.
For some reason, at the end of that conversation, one of the moms forced everyone to watch videos of her son dancing.
I found myself keeping my hands busy by tearing up the little apple eraser decorations on my sides. I hid the eraser crumb evidence in my purse.
The evening was supposed to have a trivia game. But instead of asking trivia questions they played music from the 60s for 10 seconds, and each team was supposed to write down the artist and song. None one on our side was alive in the 60s. Our team got the last place.
I believe your friends are the people who show up for you. It means a lot to me when my friends go to things like this event with me. I don’t regret showing up for Jen. I do regret all of the eraser crumbs in my purse.