Friendship

Friendship is a curious thing. Ideally it is unconditional. And occasionally it actually is.

My most recent exchange with friendship was over the Thanksgiving holiday. My husband and I were looking forward to this trip for months. We planned it over and over in our heads, recounted past years with salivating mouths (the food is wonderful) and counted the days down until our departure.

When we arrived, we enjoyed a wonderful home cooked meal made with love and a lot of spices! A lovely quiet evening by the fire, and spent a while talking and catching up.

However, over the course of weekend I suffered from terrible morning sickness, day and night. I was after all 7 weeks pregnant. We didn’t go too many places, and I was therefore left to wallow in my misery at home. I am a person that when in misery (especially) in someone else’s home, it is difficult for me to participate. I try and put on a happy face, and smile and fake it.

I could not fake it. I was miserable.

After many conversations with my husband, some anger from him towards me (rightfully so-I ruined his weekend) and a week or more of thinking it over–I sent an email to our friends apologizing for my behaviour and asking for their forgiveness (I did after all ruin their long weekend too with my sour mood).

What I got in return was an nice supportive email letting me know that I can talk to them, and next time to share my feelings while I am there.

Hmm, if only they knew that I was miserable from morning sickness. Oh, wait…they did.

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