Friend To The Clueless
My best friend Cathy turned to her husband with a knowing look.
"He doesn't have a clue," she said.
She was talking about me.
I have read many books and seen many movies which tried to anaylize the plight of the hopeless fool barreling headlong down the road of good intentions. In her bemused frustration, Cathy summed it up better than any of them, in only five words. It's the kind of thing she does for me, the kind of thing for which I depend on her far too often.
The world would be far better off if everyone had a Cathy for a best friend. I laughingly refer to myself as an expert in romance. After all, I have spent the bulk of the past ten years listening to Delilah give comfort to the lonely, and praise to the lovers.
But I am always struck by the number of callers who tell Delilah about their friends. I know when I need help, it's Cathy I count on. Love makes the world go 'round, but if that world should collapse, it is our friends who nurse our wounded heartstrings until we're ready to fly again. They know - even if we don't -- that the day will come when we're ready.
And when we do finally fly, they mind us with watchful eyes, and with pride exceeding our own. And if, like Cathy, they have a best friend who wears his heart on his sleeve, where it's certain to be trampled, they smile knowingly and shake their head, and say:
"He doesn't have a clue."