Recently a
friend said to me, sincerely and quietly, “I am so glad you are my friend.”
I was moved almost
to tears by this simple sentence. She and I have been friends for a number
of years, more so since my husband died.
She has other friends, old friends, from many years ago. She has certain
friends she spends time with each week. I am not in that circle and it doesn’t
matter. I have friends that don’t include her.
How many
times have you stopped and counted the people you can really call friends, not
acquaintances? Are they good friends,
best friends, or occasional friends?
In my life I have had only a few best friends. When I was a young teen, my best friend was Joyce. We rode horses together and told each other our deepest secrets. A couple of years older than I, she graduated high school and entered college before I did. But we always tried to stay in touch. She and her husband, her high school sweetheart, were our first visitors in our furnished apartment right after Barry and I married. What a surprise to find that she and Barry had known each other at the university. Like many women in the sixties, Joyce dropped out of college and got married. We never would have imagined that mistake would haunt her to death.
In my life I have had only a few best friends. When I was a young teen, my best friend was Joyce. We rode horses together and told each other our deepest secrets. A couple of years older than I, she graduated high school and entered college before I did. But we always tried to stay in touch. She and her husband, her high school sweetheart, were our first visitors in our furnished apartment right after Barry and I married. What a surprise to find that she and Barry had known each other at the university. Like many women in the sixties, Joyce dropped out of college and got married. We never would have imagined that mistake would haunt her to death.
One reason I
had few close friends when I was growing up is I had a built-in friend, my
sister, Gay. While we both had occasional friends, neighbors, girls we met at
school, I reflect now and realize that my two friends in high school drifted
away after their marriages, where I served as bridesmaid. Neither of them
pursued higher education. One was eventually divorced, but the other raised a
family in her husband’s home town in Wisconsin. We visited them once, and she
was still the funny adorable girl I had known at sixteen, faithful to her Catholic
upbringing.
In college,
a girl’s school in Georgia, I met some classmates I enjoyed. We had great times
laughing and talking late into the
night, trading our stories. I was awed by one girl, Peggy, the sophisticate from
Washington, D..C. Dark-eyes heavily lined and mascaraed, she was crowned with a head of jet black hair. She was independent and
courageous. I had grown up with a strict father and seldom broke any rules
except when I was out with Joyce who sneaked cigarettes from her family’s store
and impressed me with her ability to smoke and drink when she was still in high
school.
Peggy was
similar but took even more risks. She could have been sent home for slipping
out of the dorm after hours to meet her boyfriend and then slipping back in
after curfew. She couldn’t have done that without my help, of course, and in
return she let me be her friend. I was used, but it had its rewards. Through
Peggy, I met Richard, the first real love of my life. I felt extremely grateful
to travel in the same circles with Peggy, who was respected all over campus.
She had street smarts, but she was super intelligent and earned top grades. Her
goal was to become a doctor. I heard that she reached that goal.
When I left
the girls’ school to attend the university, I lost touch with Peggy and all the
girls I had known and liked for the past two years. Several moved on to other
schools to complete their education. Some went home to get married. I entered a
school where I knew no one but my younger sister. We lived in different dorms
and she made friends right away. I did not weather the change too well and
wished many times that I had stayed where I was to finish my education.
Coming from
a large family that enjoyed each other, much of my social life involved my
siblings. My sisters-in-law often turned to me as a friend and I loved them,
warts and all, but was burned when my brothers cheated or divorced their
partners. How could I make a choice between a friend and a loved brother? I
hated the sin, but loved the sinner.
I like the
metaphor that life is a sailboat and at times the winds come up strong. We have
to navigate them carefully, even changing our course sometimes. Friendship is a
large part of a healthy life. Having social ties has been proven to lengthen
our days on this earth. But I also believe people come into our lives and go
out of our lives when they are supposed to do so. For that reason, I have no
desire to seek out old classmates on Facebook.
I am so very
fortunate to have my sister who will always be a huge part of my life, and a
small number of good friends in my life now that I know will never turn on me
or hurt me. I am glad they are my friends.
My sister is also my best friend, too. We talk on video chat a couple times a month, but I feel her connected to me even though we live far apart. And now I've got lots of virtual friends, some of whom are very precious to me, through blogging. I also have one very good friend here in Bellingham, and many acquaintances too. Thanks for reminding me to be grateful for them! :-)
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about hating the sin of cheating on one's wife and loving the sinner. I had the same problem with my brother who cheated on his first wife. Now, he's married again, and I'd like to think he has learned from past mistakes. I hope I'm right.
ReplyDeleteThere are few things as wonderful as the camaraderie of women. No one knows you like one of your kind.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your stories!
Joan
Hi Joan,
ReplyDeletethanks for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment.
Friends are special, and we should cherish them.