Something Broken

Originally Published Dec. 2012

I met Diane my first day on a new job.  We were introduced by one of my managers and we took an instant liking to each other.  We exchanged pleasantries and she said, “We’ll get together for a break real soon.”

Well, we did get together on a break and found out that we had a lot in common:  One of my sons was the same age and grade as her daughter.  We both had a son named John.  We were both overweight and had tried all the same diets and diet clubs.  And, we both loved chocolate!  We liked each other and so a friendship began.

We managed to get together on a daily basis for breaks and when we saw each other in the hallway since we didn’t work in the same department, we’d stop to chat for a few minutes.

After a while, we knew each other’s phone numbers without having to look them up each time.  We both started to share that our teenagers were giving us the typical teen problems and we were both frustrated and concerned.  Most of our conversation was taken up with our mutual concerns about all our children and we genuinely cared about each other.

People were now talking in terms of “Mary and Diane.”  Everyone knew that we enjoyed each other’s company and in addition to breaks, we started to go to lunch together.  We even started going out to movies and the Renaissance Fairs with our husbands.  The four of us had fun.

After about two years of what I thought was a great friendship, I noticed that Diane would say mean things to me to get me to react.  She’d say, “Since you are a secretary, would you please make me copies of these papers?  I don’t know how to run the xerox machine and you are suppose to do this anyway.”  Hey, I wasn’t her secretary and she wasn’t even in my department, but I would make the copies since I considered her a friend of mine.  I didn’t question her, however, as to why all of a sudden she was treating me like a servant.  Maybe I didn’t want to hear her answer since I didn’t like to confront anyone – especially a friend.

A newcomer to our little group, Chris, joined Diane and me in our little breaks.  Soon, though, they wouldn’t stop at my desk to see if I wanted to go with them.  At first I used the rationale that they were not including me because I had recently undergone foot surgery and was on crutches and couldn’t walk all the way to the cafeteria.  But, after two weeks when I could walk without much difficulty, they were still ignoring me.  I started to make noises such as typing, closing the file drawer, coughing, etc. to let them know that I was at my desk; but, they never came by to get me.

So, I would call Diane and say, ‘Want to go on a break?”  She could hardly say “no”; but, I knew her heart wasn’t in it.  She and Chris would talk to each other and literally ignore me.  They would even walk together and force me out of the way so I would have to walk behind them.  It didn’t take long for me to just stop asking to join them.

After a while, whenever I saw Diane in the hallway, she wouldn’t even say hello to me.  She acted as if I wasn’t even there!  What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment?  I’d go home at night and cry on Norm’s shoulder.  He’d encourage me to just ask her what was wrong; but, I just couldn’t.

After about three months of this, we did confront each other.  Although I have to admit that it was Diane who initiated the conversation.  Diane had called Chris to go on a break and I happened to answer Chris’ phone.  We chatted for a couple of minutes – and believe me, it was a very cold conversation, when all of a sudden, Diane said, “Mary, I suppose you’ve noticed that I haven’t been speaking to you.  I’d like to tell you why.”    The reason was because I talked too much about my children!  That was the only reason she gave.  She said that she couldn’t stand it when I bragged about my kids when her children were such losers and that we didn’t have anything in common anymore.  After that day, whenever we saw each other, we would politely say “hello” and continue on our way. 

About eight months after that phone call, I transferred to another building in our company and didn’t see Diane for at least a year after that.  Then one evening around Christmas time, I was at the Guthrie with one of my sons attending “A Christmas Carol”.  Diane had seen me in the audience and during intermission, she found me in the restroom.  She came over to me and said that she was sorry for the way she had treated me and asked for my forgiveness.  I told her that I knew how hard it must be for her to say that she was sorry and then she hugged me and cried.  I didn’t.  I think I had used up all my tears two years before when she was treating me so badly.  I let her hug me.  I smiled at her and said goodbye.

In relating the incident to Norm later on that evening, I became aware of the fact that I had absolutely no feeling whatsoever (good or bad) about Diane.  She could have just been a stranger asking my forgiveness.  I felt absolutely nothing!  Norm suggested that maybe I had worked through the grief of losing a friend and that my mourning process was finished.  And, I believe he was right.