my glory is i have such friends.

i’m in an international book club. if you know me well, you know that this eclectic little book club – that started five years ago with me forcing my friends to read with me to celebrate my birthday – has become a very important part of my life. there are seven of us, and we rotate book picks loosely tied to our birthdays. we used to meet in person in bangkok; however, now that we live all over the world we meet in an online hangout. while not the same, it totally works and i feel like i’ve got my friends all around me in the living room. when i picture my life twenty years from now, i imagine birthday book club will still be a part of it in some way. we have read everything from atrociously heavy and depressing picks such as voices from chernobyl to epic universally adored books such as pachinko to pallet cleansers such as crazy rich asians. we make slides with questions. we still show up even if we haven’t done the reading. we give life updates. we disagree about whether listening to audiobooks is really reading. books have become the reason we stay in touch, but at some point along the way we became family.

birthday book club is just the beginning of my beautiful network of friends. living internationally, friends become the family we choose. i have close friends from nearly every phase of my life: my cottage bestie, my high school friends, my pool friends, my university crew, my mexico girls, and my professional learning network. i’ve also got lovely friends that i’ve met at the gym, on vacations, at work, and randoms i’ve met on the plane. it helps to be a bit chatty! when i got diagnosed with cancer, people warned me that i might lose some friends – people who feel out of their depth or who just simply don’t know what to say. for the most part, that wasn’t my experience. my friends found ways to be present and to support me even when they were totally uncomfortable and even when they knew they couldn’t fix anything. they showed up on day one, and they showed up on day one hundred and one.

last weekend, i had a small celebration to mark the end of treatment as well as my 37th birthday. it felt important to do something special to end this chapter, and to express my gratitude to the people who have supported me through the last 17 months. the tough part was that many of the people who have been most present and supportive couldn’t attend. they don’t live in bangkok. they live in toronto and vancouver and ottawa and louisville and santiago and singapore and kansas city and yellowknife and sydney and zurich and san francisco and hong kong and london and medellin and stratford-upon-avon and so many other places. i hesitated to list because i am so very sure i have missed some.

i have a wonderful crew here in bangkok; but i got emotional thinking of how i might involve my circle of international friends. until i can get you all together for the most epic celebration of all time, i am extending gratitude for the many roles you each played in holding me up. i know i’m a very independent person; however, all of the gestures – both large and small – made a difference.

the card writers: i love the lost art of letter writing. i have been making a scrapbook with every card and note i have received. one friend sent me a hand written note every second week for the whole year of my treatment. i can barely type that without crying: the constant, unwavering expression of love and support.

the researchers: i have some very smart and connected friends. people in the medical field who researched, leveraged their contacts and got me second and third opinions. this was invaluable, particularly in the beginning – they helped me to filter the onslaught of information and decode the doctor-speak.

the visitors: when i was presented with the precarity of life, all i wanted was quality time with the people that i love. that’s really all i want now, moving forward (throw in a husband and kids for the ultimate happiness)! friends flew in to bangkok for that first sad weekend after diagnosis, others flew up to canada to visit while i was there for treatment, others took buses/trains/cars to accompany me on walks and help pass the time. i was humbled and overwhelmed and so very grateful. there is no greater gift than the gift of presence.

the distractors: some people were so good at knowing when i just didn’t want to talk about cancer anymore. those were the friends who would talk to me about the most recent of the bachelor, or suggested that we watch nostalgic teen romantic comedies from the 90s, or sent me silly emojis, or took me on field trips to do activities with their kids. even more appreciated were those friends who distracted my parents – these were a precious few insightful people. i do not like being mothered, or hovered, or worried-about. i will be truly forever grateful for those friends who invited my parents out, checked in on them, and kept them busy. you deserve a gold medal!

the companions: every person who accompanied me to appointments. hospitals, unfortunately, are unpleasant. they are sterile, unfriendly, and for someone who hasn’t spent a lot of time in them, they are foreign. having friends join me turned each visit into an event, and gave me a quality catch up with people in my life. sitting in waiting rooms, awaiting results, and getting infusions would never be how i would choose to spend my time; but having calm and friendly people in my presence made it so much more tolerable — and dare i say it, even fun.

the gift givers: this must be the love language of many of my friends! i received so many packages and deliveries while in canada: flowers, books, self-care products, blankets, board games, symbols of hope & friendship, food, clothing, earrings, yoga classes, dinners out, reminders of thailand, spa visits and coffee gift certificates. when i returned to thailand, two friends who had being staying in my house ensured that my fridge was stocked (which seems so simple but it was HUGE). while totally unnecessary, each gift was so thoughtfully chosen and generous, and reminded me daily of how well all my friends know me.

the worriers: i’m not good at letting people worry about me. somehow, my friends had a less smothery way of worrying about me, and it was usually legitimate. i appreciated the clarity and directness of communication from my friends: we worry you are taking on too much too fast. we think you should consider not living with your parents. we believe you have planned too many stops on your summer vacation. they expressed their worry to me in moderation, and it was almost always right. i never felt overly defensive and appreciated their frankness.

the people who had been through something: i need a better label for these people. this was the surprise that i never saw coming. people who came out of the woodwork who i barely knew, but who became some of my closest confidants. these people spoke directly to my heart. they had experienced pain, suffering, loss, and were still alive to talk about it. i hope i will be able to show up for others in the future the way that some of these people were able to show up for me.

the listeners: as brené brown says, when people are in pain – show up, and don’t look away. this can be super uncomfortable. and yet, it was the number one. letting me messy cry. holding me. letting me process my thoughts about death and dying without changing the subject. not giving me a motivational speech, not offering platitudes; simply, letting me grieve. friends who realized this was the absolute worst, and knew there was nothing they could do or say to make it better.

this month, since it was my birthday, was my pick for birthday book club. i thought long and hard about the book that i would pick. i have chosen some epic fails in the past (public apology: i made everyone read the brick of a book which was the autobiography of cancer, and this was before i even knew cancer would ever enter so prominently into my life!), and i wanted this choice to be a message to my friends. in some ways, most of my friendships are closer than ever before. not because of grand gestures, or because of gifts, or because of flights around the world; but because of love and gratitude. realizing we can’t take anything for granted reminded us how grateful we are for one another. how much love we have for each other.

in the end, i chose a book called the glory was i had such friends. it is by no means a masterpiece. it is a memoir about a woman who needs a heart transplant, and her friends come together to support her. the title of the book comes from a yeats poem – one of his last – where he realized that the richness of his life came from the infinite value of his friends.

so, to birthday book club and beyond:

my glory is i have such friends.

a humble thank you.

*friendship is beautiful. photo taken in laos, november 2012.