Inner Circles

"Debs, I couldn't even call you... My wife said, 'Debs and Yaghoub are going through this, you must call', but I just couldn't pick up the phone; I had no idea what to say to you".

This the sentiment of a good friend I've known for a decade, referring to my baby's birth asphyxia, critical care in NICU, and subsequent pillar-to-post medical investigation to ascertain whether she would live out her days without sight.

His words hit a spot, as his and his beautiful wife's are known to do. Because he 'got it', and was as gutted and shellshocked as we were. I felt that they had, in part, lived this experience with us.

Likewise, my best friend who admitted after the fact to have diarised Ariana's medical tests, as though they were for her own child... And my dear cousin who has loved my daughter almost as her own since her conception. And a person Yaghoub and I count as family, phoning constantly from the other side of the world, saying how helpless he feels not being involved and informed. And one of my most lifelong soul sisters, her own life in tatters at the hands of a spouse wanting out, knowing to ask and engage.

People care. And this is an extraordinarily special thing. But many people don't, or can't. And while this is "fine", they simply cannot be "inner circle". I think my husband and I load-shed acquaintances and fair-weather companions almost automatically when Ariana arrived. With his Persian heritage, he often refers to "devil eyes" - basically meaning duplicitous behaviour driven by ulterior motives. Shakespeare's "look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it", comes to mind. We were stretched so thin, at the time, that it came naturally to lose the blinkers and know who we should and shouldn't cling to and trust for our emotional replenishment.

I only hope that I am, in some ways, perceived to be as good and engaged of a friend as my nearest and dearest succeed in being. May I work on this every day.