Yesterday, I wrote about my life-long friend; a good man who did a bad thing.
I don't use the word "friend" freely. I have many "associates" whose company I enjoy, but few people who I care to call a friend. I reserve the term friend for people who have shared emotional bonds of support and trust over a period of time.
Some of those people are like the friend who is now in trouble. Some are people with whom I have worked and shared experiences both good and bad. What is constant is that we continue to care about each other, even though the circumstances that brought us together have long since disappeared.
My friend who is in trouble is like a brother to me... one that I have chosen (I dearly love my blood-related brothers, too). So, I could not simply hear the news of his trouble and just feel sorry for him. I telephoned him... a very difficult call to make. He was home alone and said he would be for a week or so. We talked frankly about his situation without castigation. I'm certain it was difficult for him... a strong mixture of regret and humiliation. But he didn't try to make excuses... he didn't have to with me and he knew that. What he knew was that I called because I cared about him and was concerned for him. He knew that, too.
We talked for about an hour. I told him that I would come to be in court for him... either to provide a testament to his good character or just to be there and let him know that his bad judgment didn't lessen my belief that he was a good man. When you choose to be a friend to someone, you don't walk away because they failed themselves. While you don't have to condone what they did to fail themselves, you can let them know that you care. If you don't or can't, perhaps you were not really friends afterall.
