where credit is due

My embarrassing post from yesterday really has another story. And I need to tell the other side of that story. It's far better, and more redeeming, than my stupidity.

So yes, I lost my keys. But in those precious few minutes of sheer panic ("Oh my gosh they could be anywhere in downtown Minneapolis!"), I had some really amazing people on hand.

Everyone, meet Spencer, Marjorie and Jon. ::Hi, guys:: Yes I used their real names and if they hate me forever and wish to remain anonymous and protect their internet identity, I'll just change their names to something really unbelievable like Bullwinkle or Guadeloupe.

OKAY. Not the point of the story. So I kinda tweaked a little when I lost my keys and maybe pulled at my hair and bit my lip really. hard. and muttered bad things under my breath. But there were really only two options: look for them and cry about it or look for them and laugh about it. And really only one of those is even remotely desirable.

So we looked. They dumped out bags of newspapers and pulled the cushions off their furniture and got down on the floors and shook coat pockets and hugged me and reassured me that it would be okay and we all checked my purse over and over and over. And in the middle of it all, someone cracked a joke. And we laughed. And it wasn't so terrible. And it was mostly okay. Which is what amazing friends are for.

BUT WAIT. It gets better.

Because when we resigned ourselves to the idea that the keys would not, in fact, be found that night, my thoughts turned to how I would get home. And just like that, Spencer goes, "You can take the Taurus." Just. Like. That. Not enough to offer to take me home, but to let me take one of their cars.

This is what amazing friends do. They put forth more effort than necessary. They give more than the standard permits. They complicate their own lives (however slightly) and go down to one car per family to help the idiot that lost her keys. And we laugh about it. Together. I am so inspired by these friends I have. And grateful. And humbled. And reminded that this is, once again, what it means to do life together.

This is community. And it is beautiful. And accepting of idiots like me.