Better Broken

 Los Angeles, California

Before I move on to report on the festivities of the Christmas season, I want to revisit the Sarah McLachlan concert and album. As I wrote in the last post, there are very few, if any, emotions I have experienced that haven't been expressed in the songs Sarah writes. For me, it's a lot like what Joni Mitchell meant to me in my twenties. All of my joy and angst were in her music. I still like to listen to Joni Mitchell, but she no longer speaks to me in the way Sarah's music does. I think that is  because Joni's music reminds me too much of that long ago time when there was perhaps more angst than joyousness. So in the last decades, Sarah's music has been much more present and resonant in my life.

As soon as I obtained the tickets for Sarah's Better Broken concert, I downloaded the album. When Cin asked me about it, I told her it was a little dark. When Sarah sang the title song, the first song she performed, she confessed that it had been written twelve years earlier. I surmise that was around the time that her marriage was ending. If you have had relationships in your life that ended, whether it be family or friend or husband/lover, you have most likely gone through a gauntlet of emotions. For me, most of what always ruminates is what did I do wrong? Or, what could I have done for a different outcome? And, in some of those lost relationships, there are answers to those questions. I could have asked for less. I could have tolerated more. Answers like that in multiplication. But the truth is that some relationships are better broken.

A friend has recently lost her husband, and I have been making an effort to support her. It brings back a  lot of memories for me, back to the time when my husband passed away. I shared with her the wisdom that another friend had shared with me at the time: Some of the people you expect to be there disappoint you. But others who you don't expect much from, will come through in extraordinary ways. This was so true. My best friend at the time almost immediately backed away from me and that greatly added to the grief I was experiencing. What did I do wrong? Maybe I leaned on her too  much. Among other things, I asked her to notify people of his death for me. Things a sister would have done, had I had one. Could I have tolerated more? Probably. After she stepped back, I did the same, thinking she would address the changes in our relationship. She didn't. By the time I did, the issues were largely unmendable. I had thought that the history we had including the very special times we spent together in Carmel would be sustaining. So, the next time I was in Carmel, I sent her an email catching up on my life and the changes in Carmel. She never responded.

If I were to look back through all the posts here over the past fifteen-plus years, I would find a litany of assertions that I expect a lot from my relationships. And equally stated, that I give a lot in my relationships. This dynamic came up a lot when I was in therapy. I am reminded that the late, great Rob Reiner once stated (and I paraphrase) that he went into therapy with depression and came out a few decades later with the understanding and acceptance that sometimes he was going to be depressed. Through all of the growth in my adult life (and for better or for worse), I am that person who values and cherishes my relationships. But when the teeter-totter stops going up because one side isn't leveraging their share, I do address that. And, usually too late. One of the lessons I learned long ago is that if you address this with your friend, lover, family member, you better be prepared that if the situation has been working for them, they are not going to meet that moment with understanding and empathy. In fact, most of the time it is exit, stage right. I have grieved in my life for the loss of a few friends, a sister, and my college boyfriend ex. But I have also come to an understanding that this is who I am. And, sad as I feel for those losses, I am cognizant that some people simply do not have the capability to be a good friend. Most of them want friendship and even lament that they don't make friends easily. But the truth is, you don't make friends. You be a friend. And if you don't have that capability, to put yourself out there as that special friend, you will never have strong friendships. Knowing this, as much as I have always strived to be a that friend and sister, I  have learned that some relationships truly are better broken. 

There are worse things in life than feeling like you're not getting enough from a relationship. But it doesn't feel good and those feelings always increase over time. Having an assurance that some things are better broken also allows me to give more and to be more to the longtime friends who put similar caring and energy into their relationships. And we value each other more or less equally. Those are the friendships that can be forever unbroken. And that brings rewards beyond words.