I’ll be there for you
Friends are the family you choose; the people you can always count on to support you through the toughest of times, as these readers prove
Six readers open up about the friendships they cherish
A devastating diagnosis at a young age brought Debbie Clarke and her friend Kim Lucas closer than ever.
Debbie, 40, from Nottingham, says:
‘At first, I’d put my exhaustion down to being a new mum. Although my daughter Robin’s dad and I were on good terms, I was raising her alone, so I thought it was normal to feel run down. But when I sought medical help, the diagnosis was terrifying: I had Hodgkin lymphoma, a type of blood cancer.
At 29, I didn’t know how I was going to manage going through chemotherapy and looking after my one-year-old. But I knew there was someone I could rely on: my friend, Kim. I’ll never forget the sight of her standing in the front garden, her rucksack slung over her shoulder, as she moved in for eight months to help look after us both. “Don’t worry,” she said, as we hugged. “I’m here now.”
Kim and I had met at college during our A levels. Although complete opposites, we bonded immediately.
She was the sensible, level-headed one, whereas I was a rebel, falling in
with the wrong crowd and choosing bad boyfriends. We went to different universities, then I got a job in marketing and Kim was a talented carpenter, but we saw each other whenever we could.
So, when I was diagnosed with cancer in 2009, Kim was the first person I called. I knew I could trust her, and I was right. She offered to help out straight away.
I had chemo once a fortnight for six months, and on those days, Kim would take me to hospital then look after Robin. She never complained about sleeping on a camp bed in the lounge, telling me that the most important thing was for me to rest after chemo.
We went on holiday to Wales halfway through my treatment, with some money from Cancer Research. I had an awful moment where I hallucinated so much that I felt like I was sinking into the carpet and that I was going to die.
I didn’t think I could go on, but then I saw Kim standing over me. “You are going to get through this,” she told me.
Seven months later, I got the all-clear. This month, 10 years on, I’m taking Kim to New York to celebrate my 40th birthday and to say thank you for everything.
Having cancer so young taught me that you have to make the most of life, and show people how much you appreciate them. I will always be so grateful to Kim for her tough love, laughter and friendship.’
Kim, 39, from Hampshire, says:
‘When I got the call from Debbie, it hit me like a punch in the stomach. “I’ve got cancer,” she said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” I thought about our recent holiday, when Debbie hadn’t seemed quite right, and suddenly it all made sense. “I’m coming to look after you,” I said.
As soon as I arrived, I knew I’d done the right thing. Debbie had shaved her head after her diagnosis. Looking at each other, we burst out laughing, as I pointed out that she may not lose her hair during treatment. Our friendship had been built on laughter, and her diagnosis wasn’t going to change that.
I was conscious about not taking over. Debbie did Robin’s bath and bedtime, but if she was feeling awful, I’d carry Robin into Debbie’s room so she could lay next to her mum before going to sleep.
There were some lovely times, too. I have happy memories of pushing Robin on the swings and walking around the garden centre showing her the glowing fish.
When Debbie got the all-clear, it was a such relief. I got offered a new job and moved out soon after. Robin started nursery, and all our lives resumed.
I’m so thankful that Debbie chose me to confide in. It deepened our friendship and now I’m a mother myself, I have a new appreciation for Debbie and how brave she was to entrust Robin to me. It’s a privilege to have been there to support them.’
‘I’m grateful for her tough love, laughter and friendship’ ‘I’m so thankful Debbie chose me to confide in’
For Louise Perry, meeting Anne Twist after her divorce helped her learn to trust again.
Louise, a midwife from Stoke-on-trent, says:
‘Sitting on the lounge floor surrounded by books, I felt overwhelmed. I was 36, recently divorced, with two young daughters, Charlotte, 12, and Chloé, 10. I’d been accepted on a midwife training course, but suddenly wasn’t sure I had what it took to make it.
In the middle of this crisis, my friend Anne came in. “Come on, you can do it,” she said. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but we can manage this together.” She believed in me at a time when I didn’t believe in myself.
I’d met Anne a few years earlier when we were both out walking our dogs. Anne’s so pretty and smiley – I felt grumpy in comparison! I was coming towards the end of a difficult marriage, struggling to confide in or trust anyone. But we started walking and talking
– and have done ever since.
After I split with my first husband, Anne was my support. My ex and I had a few friends as a couple, but Anne was one of the first people I’d met who was separate from that part of my life. She came along when I really needed someone.
Anne had recently moved to the same village in Cheshire and neither of us had any family nearby, so we would take it in turns to look after each other’s children; my daughters, who were then five and three, and her two, Gemma and Harry, who were the same age. The children soon became great friends and would always be at one of our houses playing.
Anne and I have both since remarried and were bridesmaids at each other’s weddings. Tragically, Anne’s husband died two years ago after battling cancer. I was there for Anne through her grief – just as she’s been there for me. She still comes on holiday with my husband, Martin, and me; she’s a valuable and loved part of our family.
Our children are now grown up, but Anne and I share grandma duties with my grandson, Noah. He calls me Granny Lou and her Nanny Annie. We still talk every day on the phone and even joke that one day we’ll move in together when we’re old! I’m so glad Anne came along when she did. I don’t know how I’d manage without her.’
Anne, from Stoke-on-trent, says:
‘Louise was the first person I called when my husband, Robin, died two years ago. It was 5am and she came straight over. She stayed for two weeks. I knew she would, as that’s the way our friendship has always been. We call each other “soul sisters”, which sounds a bit naff, but sums things up.
One of the things I love most about our friendship is that Louise always includes me in everything. Since Robin died, the three of us quite often go to the theatre together. They never make me feel like the odd one out.
Louise is so easy to be around. The children are now all adults, and as Louise and I have known each other since they were little, it feels like we’ve all grown up together. We’re like one big, extended family, although we usually only all get together at Christmas as my son, Harry [the pop star Harry Styles], is rather busy! As Louise has such a serious and impressive job safeguarding midwives, I like to lighten things up a bit. The morning before her wedding to Martin, two years ago, we went and found a hill and rolled down it, laughing our heads off. Both in our 50s, I realised it had been years since I’d done something like that!
We often go on holiday together and last year we went to the US. We were travelling around from state to state on a coach and, after spending the night in Nashville, we woke up to find ourselves outside a really smart hotel. We were in our pyjamas and cowboy boots but had to walk through the main lobby. I told Louise we had to style it out, so we lifted our heads up high, breezed through in our PJS then burst out laughing when we got to our rooms.
That’s us, through and through.
Louise and I have both had our tough times, but we can always find something to smile about. We’re so lucky to have found each other.’
‘She believed in me at a time when I didn’t believe in myself ’ ‘We joke that we’ll move in together when we’re old’
‘We only have to look at each other to know what we are both thinking’
Brenna Slade and Michelle Hannaford, army wives living on a military base in Warwickshire, found friendship a few doors down.
Brenna, 31, says:
‘It was one of those moments when I would have called my mum if my parents didn’t live thousands of miles away in America. My daughter, Heidi, had fallen and split her head open and there was blood everywhere. I rushed over to my neighbour Michelle to ask her to look after my eldest child, Shirley-jo, while I took Heidi to A&E.
It really brought home to me that I would be lost without having Michelle there. Life as an army wife can be quite isolating, especially as I’m not from a military background, but she has been such an invaluable support to me since we moved here five years ago.
My husband is often away for long periods, but I know I can always knock on her door for a cup of tea and advice. Making friends can be hard in the military as you’re on the move all the time, but we’ve been lucky to be based here for so long. In that time, Michelle and I have formed a real bond. We only have to look at each other to know what the other one is thinking. In fact, we sometimes joke that it’s like we’re married, and our husbands are the “extras”!’
Michelle, 40, a nursery manager, says: ‘I’ve been an army wife since my 20s, having married Simon in 2003, and there have been lots of upheavals in that time – our eldest son, Josh, who is now 15, went to six different primary schools. As a result, it’s been hard for me to form many strong friendships. That’s why meeting Brenna was a breath of fresh air.
She’s a model and a bit younger than me, so I wasn’t sure we’d have that much in common, but she is really easy to talk to and I soon knew we were going to become friends.
She was a big help to me when I was pregnant with my daughter, Rose, last year. I had lots of medical appointments and with my husband away, Brenna was there offering a shoulder to cry on. She was one of the first people to visit me in hospital, too.
Military life can be quite transient. Friends can come and go, but my friendship with Brenna is a constant.
She is the one person I know I can talk to about anything. She’s always there to listen and help out with the children if I need her to. She has become like family. I know I can count on her to always be there – and I’m so grateful for all she does.’
‘She’s the one person I know I can talk to about anything’