to die a little

Almost exactly 2 years ago, Maayan returned from India and Nepal. It ended one of the most anxious 8 months of my life, more than even her army service when she rode the bus every day from platoon to platoon everywhere from Ramallah to Gaza and suicide bombers were the evenement de jour.

Before and during Maayan's travels to India, her friends were happy for her. They cheered her on, encouraged her – and I grumbled.

I didn't get in her way, I even facilitated, but never once pretended that I liked the idea.
I respected her enough to let her do what she decided to do without trying to stop her, but I loved her enough to die a little every time I thought of the danger. While she was there, I couldn't bear to even talk to her when she called, to hear her voice. The anxiety was too much for me.

When she came back, we found out things that wisely she had kept from us while away. In Nepal she had been inches from death. (See the story on Avital) Maayan sees the adventure as a great life experience; I see it as a near brush with tragedy.

Who were Maayan's friends? I mean, her real friends? Were they the ones that told her what she wanted to hear, encouraged her to take chances and were happy for her? Did any of them care enough about her to warn her? To be worried?

And if Maayan hadn't survived Nepal; what would her friends be worth then?

Who is a friend?

My best friend is Barry, who happens to also be my brother. Barry injured an eye when he was six years old doing the only stupid thing he's ever done in his life, but he sees me. I'm about as good as a wet T-shirt at concealing anything from him. Barry is my critic. He says the things that people think but are too polite (but really just too cowardly) to say. I listen to Barry because even though he doesn't like everything I do and almost nothing that I say, I know the bottom line is that he loves me nevertheless.

Real friends are honest. They say what they think. They aren't yes-men and they aren't cheerleaders. They aren't "almost always nice". They assume that you know that no matter what they say about what you do, their opinion of you is unconditional. Real friends will do or say what they believe you need, even if it isn't something you like. To be a real friend you have to have guts. Or nerve.

Who were Maayan's friends? Avital certainly was. But I wonder how many of the others cheered her on because they really believed it was good for her, and how many because it was an easy way to win her smile.

I wonder if any of them loved her enough to die a little inside.