This time ... it's the big things

I spent almost three hours Wednesday with a good friend who drove here from her home in Denver to come to Dad's funeral.

Her name is Amy, and she was one of my earliest childhood friends. She was truly part of the "good ol' days!" She was so much a part of our family for so long during our younger years that my parents considered her their third daughter. She was like a sister to Kim and me.

But as life would have it — life happened — and we took two very different paths. She became a star athlete and college basketball player at the University of Texas, and I settled into a somewhat less "exciting" life. She had her life; I had mine.

Plus, you know how it is, when kids part ways in high school by going to different schools, circles of friends change based on who you see the most and spend the most time with. That's basically what happened with Amy and me.

All ya need is love, love. All you need is love.

We talked yesterday about how we regretted drifting apart, but I told her I knew somewhere inside of me she would always be there. There's a saying that the people who are meant to be in your life and stay in your life will always find a way to be back in your life.

This seems to be playing out now, and I could not be happier.

We reconnected a few weeks ago when she came to see my parents, Kim and me. She's been close by ever since ... and she and her family are planning to move back this way in a couple of years. Even better!

Reconnecting with Amy has been one of the greatest blessings I've experienced during my parents' illnesses.

But Amy's not the only person, although she's the most significant person from my past.

One of the other great relationship blessings has been in getting to know all the people who were so special to my parents — from the coaches and their families to my parents' high school classmates. These people have been amazing! They have treated Kim and me so well and have been so kind and loving. They have all helped out in so many ways, but specifically, emotionally. I've had some nice text, e-mail and Facebook conversations with many of them. I feel as if I've gotten to know my parents better by hearing about them from their friends' perspectives.

I can't fail to mention many of my dad's former players, too. So many have been so wonderful and supportive and friendly. It's been a beautiful thing!

Family that we have not been particularly close with — I think mainly due to geographical distance — have come closer, and we've had some great, intimate conversations. We've even learned a thing or two about family secrets. Ah, drama! What would a family be without drama?

My sister's good friends from high school and college have all been so kind to reach out to me, as if I were a part of their bunch, too.

I've even somewhat reconnected with a few friends besides Amy from my past, although not quite so intensely. Some former coworkers have stepped forward, as well.

And, of course, there are those folks who have been active in my life in the last couple of years.

All of this relationship "love" has been the silver lining for me.

And all of it has solidified for me exactly who and where my attention needs to be in my life. Remember that 10-80-10 rule I've talked about, taught to me by someone way wiser than I?

It's that first 10 percent — that 10 percent who do and will love you no matter what — that deserves your time and energy. They love you no matter what you've been through. They love you no matter what you've done and have forgiven you for it, because they believed in you enough to know you could straighten up. They love you because they know your heart.

It's nice if along the way you add a few more to your 10 percent from the 80 percent that currently doesn't really care about you one way or the other, but, eh, that's just icing on the cake, I guess.

But you're being just plain foolish to give any kind of thought, attention or energy to that last 10 percent — that percentage of people who are going to dislike you no matter what. Get over those folks. It's their loss, and it's about them, not you. Get. Over. It.

Tough times like what I've recently encountered remind you (ok, me) — again and hopefully for the last time —to whom and where to give myself.

And it's also the sharpest (and shameful) reminder — again, to me anyway — about the kind of friend I should be and need to be to others who are and have been important to me.