How big is my fan club?

As little girls and boys, we had heroes, icons of theater, music, sports, or anything else that caught our eye. It became something we measured ourselves against and by.

Holly Hobby Fan Club Kits in hand, we donned markers of membership, paid our dues, and fawned over poster sized images of our hero. We were members of a group by association. We were: FANS.

Now, decades later, we no longer have the time, energy, or desire to be anyone’s fan. Life became busier and more complex than we could ever have imagined.

As perspectives and circumstance change, we find ourselves the heroes of other people’s lives: our children, aging parents, needy friends. We also suffer the betrayal of lost dreams, deceitful intimates, and gravity. At some point, we look around to see who we can really count upon as friends, those who have remained faithful. There is a small handful of people that we can always look to for a laughing smile, a profound truth, or a shoulder to cry upon, and they, to us.

They are our fan club and we are theirs. We cheer each other on and greet them with warm hugs and happy wags. They have seen us at our worst and loved us still, as we have done for them. These are our fans, our True Believers, and we should treat them as the Chosen Few in our lives that they are.

They are the ones who have earned their merit badges, who have saved for their decoder rings, and who give us a measuring stick by which we see the value of what we have done with the little time we have.

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