In Perspective

You know how you've got those friends on Facebook--the ones from high school who maybe you weren't all that close with. You knew them, they knew you. Maybe you were in some classes together. Maybe you were both in the band. But you ran in different circles. Nothing mean about it, that's just how it was. But, because your town was small and your high school was small and you pretty much went to school with the same people from kindergarten on, you knew each other. But after high school, you didn't keep in touch. And maybe you saw each other at the ten year reunion and said hi and caught up a bit, but it was mostly because of the shared and awkward feeling of somehow simultaneously knowing and not knowing one another, not because you were trying to deepen your friendship. And then, another ten years went by, and you went to the twenty year reunion, but you didn't really hang out much doing reunion-y type stuff because you had family committments and kids, etc. Did you see this friend at the twentieth reunion? You can't remember. But then Facebook came along, and all of the sudden, you were friending and being friended by people who you had to go to your yearbook to remember: "Oh yeah! I remember him! He sat behind me in English. But didn't he move away our junior year?" You know what I'm talking about.

And some of these new/old friends you got closer to and communicated with more than you ever had in high school, and you wondered, "Why in the hell weren't we closer? She's really cool!" And you saw what life had done to them. Maybe they were heavier. Or gray-headed. Maybe they were divorced with kids in college while yours was in elementary school. Maybe they still lived in your hometown or in Switzerland or Kentucky. You began to learn if they're really religious or Republican. Or both. Or neither. You saw vacation pictures and Christmas trees. You had these glimpses into their lives and wondered if they were looking at your posts and pictures too.

My friend Wendy is one of these people. We were not close in high school, but she has become my friend through Facebook. And right now, she is lying in her bed, receiving hospice care because this time--her second time dealing with breast cancer--she is losing her battle. I have gotten to know Wendy over the past few years like I never knew her when we were growing up. She has two adorable children. She loves John Waite and Motley Crue. She likes wacky hair color and funky glasses. And she is, more than anything, a fighter.

She may never know how much getting to know her--having our silly Facebook conversations over the past couple of years--has meant to me. To know someone with so much to live for who has been working every day for years to persevere in the face of terrifying odds humbles you. I am honored to now call this brave woman my friend.

Thank you, Wendy. You are one of the most courageous people I've ever known.

Music Lover

Tuesday night, BH and I went to see Sufjan Stevens at The Long Center, and I'm still recovering.

A word about my relationship with Sufjan's music: It's not often that I can remember where I was and what I was doing the first time I heard a particular artist. But I can do that with REM, PJ Harvey, Rufus Wainwright, and Sufjan. It was back when I was renting Karla's house, and I was on my way home from work, stuck in traffic, listening to "All Things Considered." They were interviewing Sufjan and playing clips from his album "(Come On Feel The) Illinois," and I was completely taken by him and his music. It was so different than anything I'd heard--simultaneously complex and delicate. I found myself scrambling for a pen and some paper so I could write down his name and the name of the album so I could purchase it immediately. I have loved and been fascinated by his music ever since.

Fast forward to Tuesday night. I bought our tickets to this concert the second they came out, however, I was bummed because the best I could get were upper balcony. But it didn't matter. The sound quality at The Long Center is exceptional, and Sufjan's band is so large, that our perspective was actually kind of nice. And I know his music, so I expected the concert to be goodm, but it was EXCELLENT. This is just the 7th show on their tour to support an EP that came out this summer and his latest album that came out on 10/12. So there was a lot of joy and energy to their playing. But I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of his music that I found myself crying at times. Dorky, I know, but it happens. It happened when I went to see Rufus Wainwright at the Paramount when it was just him and his piano. There were times while he was playing--and on Tuesday, while Sufjan was playing--when I felt like I couldn't breathe, like if I did, it would break the spell he'd cast on me. That's because, to me, seeing Sufjan (and Rufus and a very few other musicians I love) in concert means being able to watch a genius at work, which is not something we get to do every day.

Sufjan is a young (only 35!), highly-prolific multi-instrumentalist/singer, who writes poetic lyrics and difficult lovely arrangements for his extremely original songs. If that isn't the definition of a genius, I don't know what is. After spending a couple of hours watching and listening to Sufjan perform, I was blissful and inspired. I couldn't stop smiling while we walked to our car. I will never be able to listen to his recorded music the same way again because I now have this whole other point of reference--an additional layer, as it were--to appreciate added to music I already loved.

Sigh...I feel so lucky.