Field Note Friday, Edition 010: The Greeting Card Phase (Why I Suck As A Friend) (Kidding But Not)

Right now I have to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth:

I am really kind of bad at being a friend right now.

I'm trying to get better, but lately? Not my best work.

It's not entirely my fault. I certainly didn't choose this for myself or for my friends, but also, I think it's just the fault of life's circumstances. We're all busy, we all have stuff going on, and we're all doing our best.

Personally, I went through a tornado of a few years. I am begging the Universe on a near-weekly basis to allow me to be boring, to allow for some time and space for things that aren't urgent or stressful. I get my wish occasionally, but mostly, I find that peace in the late evening hours, when the kids are finally asleep and Friends is on in the background. But by then, I'm toast.

I have something like 200+ text messages that are unread. Most of them are spam I need to unsubscribe from, but the real ones have been lost in the overwhelm. And by this point, I feel like an asshole, because I'm fairly certain there's a lunch invitation in there that I haven't returned for a friendship that could be new.

I'm so sorry, C.

I think my friends and I are in what I call the "greeting card phase" or era, if it suits you.

We might not be able to show up all the time. When we do, we might not be able to stay for the entire event. We might have to cancel last minute. Some of us live too far away to even try to make it work.

Some people have brand-new babies or toddlers who need all of our attention. Some of us might be dealing with aging parents or grandparents, or health issues of our own. Some people might be making jokes and posting memes, but that smile is totally faked and they're bogged down with an overwhelm no one else can see.

Our 30s are like that, and I suspect our 40s will be different in only that some of our kids will be older, but there still might be young ones in the mix too. We might be able to pay slightly less attention at the BBQ, but only if there's no pool.

Life doesn't leave a whole lot of room for intentional friendships these days.

And I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. I think maybe we just need to adjust our expectations a little bit.

Because I don't want to spend the next ten years feeling guilty every time I realize I haven't called someone back, or I couldn't make it to dinner, or I forgot to text someone on their birthday. I also don't want my friends to think I don't love them because I can't always show up in the ways I used to.

So maybe friendship in this phase of life looks a little different.

Maybe it's less about being constantly available and more about finding small, manageable ways to remind people that they're important to you.

Which brings me to the greeting card.

Send the card.

Birthdays, engagements, anniversaries, new babies, graduations, whatever. Send the card.

Send it two weeks before the event to ensure it arrives on time. Keep a perpetual calendar like this one to write down these important dates. Social media is a great reminder, but physically handwriting and mailing a card is a lost art. Plus, who doesn't like to receive mail that isn't someone else demanding money?

I keep mine at my desk along with a personal supply of blank cards and personal stamps, because I know myself well enough to understand that if I have to go find a card, find a stamp, remember where I put the address book, and then somehow get to the post office, it's probably not happening.

The card is small, but it matters. It's a little physical reminder that you thought about someone.

Make a double batch of food and drop it off to a friend.

This doesn't even have to wait for your friends to need it.

Obviously, if someone just had a baby or is going through something difficult, please make them the casserole. But it can also just be, "Hey, I made muffins and thought of you."

You don't need a reason.

If you're already making something, making twice as much isn't necessarily that much harder, and suddenly you've got an excuse to see someone for ten minutes. Maybe you sit on their porch. Maybe you don't even go inside. Maybe you hand them the muffins and leave because everyone is tired.

That's still showing up.

Show up when it matters.

There are some things that are always going to be worth making the effort for. Weddings, showers, milestone birthdays, funerals, the big stuff. Do your absolute best to be there.

And if you genuinely can't make it work, try to do something to make up for it. Send a gift, or flowers, or a greeting card. Make the phone call. Let them know you wanted to be there even if you couldn't.

I don't think friendship is about keeping a perfect score of who showed up for what. Life is too complicated for that.

I think it's more about making sure the people you love don't have to wonder whether you still care.

Because the truth is, I don't want to be a bad friend.

I want to be the friend who remembers your birthday and sends you a card. I want to drop off muffins because I happened to make too many. I want to show up when something really matters to you.

I just also happen to be a person who is raising kids, working, managing a household, trying to keep up with approximately 47 different responsibilities at any given moment, and occasionally sitting on the couch at 9:30 p.m. watching Friends while my brain completely powers down.

I'm guessing I'm not the only one.

Maybe that's what this phase of friendship is.

Not disappearing just because we can't do friendship the way we used to, but finding smaller ways to stay connected when life doesn't leave room for the big ones.

A card in the mailbox. A container of muffins. A birthday present that arrives a little late. A ridiculous meme sent at 11:47 p.m. A five-minute porch visit. Flowers when you can't be there.

Little things that say, I haven't forgotten you.

And maybe, for right now, that's enough.

Maybe we're all just in the greeting card era.