When I ask myself in all honesty which people in my life mean the most to me, I often answer that it is those who do not give me much advice, offer me solutions, promise me cures, assure me of happiness, make promises to me about life. Those who can say ” I don’t know.”

I choose the friend who shares my pain but does not try to take it from me or steal it. I think of the friend who touches my wounds and pain with a gentle and tender hand.

I think of the friend who can be silent with me in despair, and stay with me times of great sadness or loss, when I feel bereaved in spirit and soul.

I think of the friend who doesn’t have all the answers, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing, and face with me the reality of my ignorance, my mortality, my powerlessness.

I think that for me, that  is the friend who cares.