Last week I had the opportunity to grab a drink with an old friend. Yep, a friend I went to Middle and High School with and lives a few miles away from me here in Los Angeles. It's rare. It's beautiful to "catch up" and talk about the "old days".
We hit a local, quiet bar for a late evening. It was great. We talked about movies and books. A little about our old friends. A few reminders of our more innocent, less complicated days.
And a lot about Jack.
I got home and my wife asked me how "Billy" was doing.
And I thought for a second and said "fuck, I forgot to ask".
A late night text reminded me that I had spent the whole evening talking about Jack or myself. My wife has reminded me on several occasions that nobody wants to hear about Jack as much as we want to talk about him and to temper those conversations (she's better at it than I am). People care, and they want to know what we're doing, genuinely, but not all night for goodness sake. I'm glad I had this reminder. Special needs parents often feel alienated from friends and family because we feel that our friends and family just don't get what we're going through. Well, talking about it non-stop leads to a self-fulfilling prophecy.
So, to my friends I've ignored, my friends I've talked over, and my friends I've bored... I am sorry.
I needed someone to remind me that, I indeed, am being an asshole.
And to "Billy" I owe you a drink. I owe you a drink and a conversation that starts like this... "Jack's fine. How are you?"
Because I do care.