"What Type are you?" (or does it really matter?)

I eventually found a decent white shirt for Jon, just before the morning was up and it was time to head back to school for Ben.

It's not even a turtleneck, and the sleeves are a tad long. But it is a nice longsleeved shirt, in soft cotton, not one of those less comfy cotton/polyester mix ones. And the best part is, I think Jon looks smart in it!

As I was going to say (in my previous post), like t-shirts and shirts, friends, and parents too -- parents being who I cross paths with, in person, outside of our dwindling Singaporean/Malaysian community here -- can come in all shapes and sizes. But you know, it's not easy to just hit it off with anyone, like there's probably no such thing as a perfect classical white T. And besides, every one is always so caught up with his or her own life (mine included!), that it makes coming together quite a feat.

So then, these days, more than ever, I've broadened my definition of a friend to not just someone you get to sit down to a cup of coffee or tea with, or exchange random acts of kindness -- although all those are nice to do. But the person who is "friend enough" to be there to listen, to hear me out, whenever I need a ear. And I too, am there for her. And I am grateful for the friends who are there for me, mostly "electronically", and any time difference separating us notwithstanding (isn't technology great?)!

Now, of the parents that I do meet face to face, and occasionally get to squeeze in a quick conversation here and there -- in church, or at a school activity, I'm also appreciating more and more when especially those we hardly know, show that they care by what they do or say. Often when I least expect it. And it doesn't even have to be in a big way. But you can always tell, and I know I mustn't take their sweet gestures for granted.

Hear also, what a little boy named Sam from our church said, in response to his mom asking him back his question to her, "What Type are you?". That was when I'd just finished talking with Sam's mom, when she came and picked him up from Sunday School and asked how I was doing.

I was talking about my son, the one who would dillydally, dawdle, and take his own sweet time, and how it would get to me especially when we were on a tight schedule, and also largely because I'm a Type A.

Me (ending my conversation with Sam's mom): ... I guess it's because I'm a Type A and like things done right away.

Sam to his mom (picking up on the word "Type" I'd used): What "Type" are you?

Sam's mom: What Type are you?

Sam: Huh? I'm just Sam.

What soon-to-be 3-years-old Sam said, that he's just himself, and not any particular "Type", struck a chord with me. It hit home that I don't have to be any particular "type" (of person), or be looking out for "my own type" (whatever that may mean!), to hope to click with someone.

I just have to be me. And the other person, her! Now that, hopefully, shouldn't be too difficult!

There's of course also the other sure test of friendship -- we know who our friends are, especially when it's someone you can pick up talking something with, from where you'd left off the last time. And that last time, could well have been a long time ago.