I had a friend once long ago, who was born in England, where I met him first, and died in America, suddenly, tragically as a result of a heart attack. On many things we agreed, on some we disagreed, often, loudly. Once, during a lull in our often loud and rowdy dealings, he told me, "Remember, Bob, Today is only 24 hours long. Yesterday is a shadow slipping away, and tomorrow is forever."
He was philosophical like that, that Yorkshire man, former coal miner who went underground as an adolescent, then apprenticed to the printing trade to better himself. I took what he said to mean that friends disagree and men in particular are perpetually in conflict. At the end of the day, a friend is more valuable than winning an argument.
I have expressed opinions about an individual I feel has disrespected me and used me. He is a friend of my friend, and he no doubt feels it necessary to stick up for the guy, caught in the middle as he is.
My friend is welcome in my house at any time. His friend, with whom I am in conflict, is not. Pride goeth before a fall. Whether I am right or wrong is irrelevant. This is how I feel.
I miss my Yorkshire man friend. He would have been amused by this tempest in a teapot in which I now find myself. No doubt he would have called me an idiot and told me to shut up. I probably wouldn't have listened, stubborn git that I am.
Sacrificing a friend for a principle is a bad idea. But if that friend sacrifices ME for a principle, what can I do. Perhaps only just miss his friendship.
Such are the lives of men
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment