the maternal friend

My friends never get tired of reminding me that I act too much like a mom, because I say things like...

• eat three more bites of your salad. then you can throw it away.
• get off facebook and brush your teeth.
• your parents paid good money for that, don't waste it.
• don't leave the water running.
• put your plate in the sink.
• you're not supposed to mix colors and whites.
• promise me you'll do your homework?

I'm the friend who folds the blankets and organizes the DVDs in the basement, the one who rubs backs and plays with hair and repeats that everything'll work out in the end. I call my friends "honey" and "sweetheart" without thinking and never turn off my phone in case anybody ever needs to talk.

I also worry about my friends so much more than they realize.

I wish for them at 11:11 every night, hoping that whatever issue they're working through or endevour they're starting will turn out for the best; I'm paranoid that I heard some shred of unhappiness in their voice, terrified that there's something wrong and they're not telling me what it is.

I can deal with my own emotional turbulence, but I hate seeing my friends in any kind of bad mood. Their mental welfare is far more important to me than my own. I can't defend myself against a shouted parental diatribe, but I will never sit by and let anybody critisize my friends, parents included.

My friends are my entire world. I worry about them and love them to the point of insanity and I cannot forgive myself when I let them down. They are truly amazing people, every last one of them, and they deserve far better advice than I'm capable of giving them.

I am the maternal friend--I know it, I've accepted it, I own it. It's the best way I know how to express how much I care about, how much I worry about my friends.

So, darlings, remember that I love you. And go help your mother clean the kitchen.