There are few things as painful as hearing a friend weep over the phone. You feel horrible and helpless – you cannot reach out and pat the person or give him or her a hug and say “It’s OK. I am there.” You cannot even see the tears. You can only hear a breaking voice, a slight sniffle and utter despair.
I immediately dropped everything I was doing – an editor is going to be mad at me but what the hell – and ran over to see her. She told me she was fine and would be OK but then, that’s what she would say. She’s that kind of person.
Fortunately, she actually seemed a lot better by the time I got there. The smile was back and we chatted of this and that and discussed all kinds of professional things. The tears were not mentioned. And as we walked back, I decided to drop into a cafe for a bite to eat. She hesitated for a while, saying she had to get back home, but joined me – she had barely eaten all day. We kept nattering about all kinds of things, heard some music (“Affirmation” by Savage Garden) and then trooped off into the Metro for the trip home.
We didn’t talk much about her crying on the phone. She seemed a bit tired, but not too upset. As I got off at my station and waved her goodbye, I wondered if my going to see her had been necessary. I mean, she seemed fine. Was I embarrassing her – after all, she was old enough to handle things herself? People get upset all the time.
As I was climbing the stairs to the next platform, my phone buzzed. I was a text message from her.
It is a message I am going to keep as long as I have a phone. One that I am going to treasure. And it comprised a single word and a punctuation mark.
“THANKS!”
1 comment:
"There are few things as painful as hearing a friend weep over the phone. You feel horrible and helpless..."
Absolutely right.
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