You can always tell who really is there for you by their reaction to your news of a crisis.
After my mom told my aunt about my dad losing his job, we haven’t heard from my aunt. The only time she called us was on Easter, in the late afternoon. We weren’t home, but she left a message. “Hi. Just me. Just called to say Happy Easter.” Very brief, no more personal than someone posting a simple “Happy Birthday” to a Facebook friend.
Meanwhile, my other aunt consistently calls us during the week, always asking how my dad is and how we are. At Easter, she and my cousins asked us about the situation and listened as we told about we’ve endured thus far. No attempts to change the subject, no fluffing off the conversation with the casual response of “I’m sure it will all work out.” No abandonment.
The people who are really there for you are the ones who are there for you during the times when you shine and during the times when life entraps you in a burning building with nothing more than a set of fire extinguishers. The people who are there for you help you see the outside, allowing you to breathe.