Here at work it was that time of year to update our emergency contact information. I managed to read the email while rolling my eyes, a task I have mastered over my almost three years of working here. I couldn't remember what I'd put down last year so I thought it best to update my information to remain on the safe side of things. What happened when I opened the email attachment is something that I found more sobering than the strongest cup of coffee; I only had one true emergency contact.
Granted, I am social when I want to be. I have at least four really good friends who I can depend on in a pinch and I know that is more than many folks have. Outside of that small group, I was born and raised in the same town where I still live today so I almost always know a guy who knows a guy when it comes to meeting my basic needs like car repair or where to get a good turkey burger. I'm a member of rather large church and can scarcely go anywhere in town without seeing one other member. I've been a member of the same gym for about seven years. I've even taken to doing some volunteering which is opening me up to a whole new group of people. Regardless of all this interacting and networking, when it came time to fill out my emergency contact card, I had only one true contact and couldn't really think of a reasonable second. Despite my connections and old school friendships, I am still a 35 year old divorced woman with no children and four younger siblings, three of whom living in a different city, and one of whom is still a dependent and therefore not qualified to be anybody's emergency contact. Like many people I know, I am completely unfamiliar with my neighbors. I've been working the same job for a while but only like two people in a building of three hundred. I've been at the same church for almost twenty years but have only really connected with two or three people there. And, I've been a member of the same gym for about 7 years yet I've never had a workout buddy from there.
The implied aloneness really got to me. I couldn't really determine whether or not my lack of an alternate emergency contact was a side effect of circumstance or a result of my own anti-social or stand-offish behavior. Of all the local friends I could think of who would come through in a pinch, only one "sort of" fit the criteria I think would apply to being someone's emergency contact. All this time I'd been living under the guise that I had it good in that I had more than one friend. However, when it came to the possibility of something grave occurring, I had no idea who I could turn to other than my mother.
I considered past scenarios in my life. I'd cut off friends for being dishonest, for being unscrupulous, for having questionable morals, for not showing up when they said they'd show up, or worse, for simply hurting my feelings with the truth. Perhaps some of those in my friendship graveyard could have been my alternate emergency contact. Maybe the guy who wanted to make something work with me but couldn't get me to respond romantically to him was my contact. Or, perhaps it was one of the many who didn't want to date me romantically anymore but "still wanted to be friends" who was my alternate emergency contact. I questioned my ability to hang in there with other people who aren't perfect and to grant second chances like the ones I've been given in my mind while I silently cursed my mother for not having more children when I was a small so one of them could be my alternate emergency contact. However, none of that mattered in the moment.
It is my job to find and connect with those who could potentially be on my emergency card. I need to loosen up my extreme empectation and realize that sometimes I can't even meet them. Simply put; I need to get my panties of the bunch they've been in for a while now. I must exit hermit land, step out of my protective shell, and return to the place where I can connect with others for real relationships and perhaps, a place on my emergency card.
No comments:
Post a Comment