Friends for Life.....?

Dear Reader,

I've been thinking of my friendships lately. I've been thinking of all of the people I work with, sing with, enjoy the Park with, and how many of those people are really my friends.

Many of them are friends, in the immediacy of the moment. They are friends while we're in the room singing, or while we're in the office working, or while we're in the park chatting about the gardens, dogs, etc. But none of them is a "best friend." None of them is someone I could call in a moment of need or weakness or despair. None of them is someone I could call to "just talk," just blab or gossip or even argue. None of them is someone that I would not feel terribly guilty about asking for help, and awfully humiliated at being needy. And sadly, none of them is someone I could just call up and say, "Hey, want to go see a movie; or go out for a bite or a drink," or anything else social.

Over my lifetime, I've had few "best" friends. I can count them on one hand. And, they have always left, or I've left, so those friendships have been short-lived. The longest "best friendship" that I have had was my friend Joy, with whom I was friends from 1979, when we met through circuitous circumstances, until she died in 2003. I have been feeling this loss more recently on meeting a woman who not only resembles my friend in appearance, but in attitude in many ways. I do not expect to form a "best friendship" with this person, but she brought to mind what I had lost.

The other person I felt was a best friend in my adult life was a woman I sang with in several different groups, with whom I had an "occasional" interaction, but when we did get together, it felt totally easy and comfortable. Later in our interaction, I would see her once or twice a year, for a day or two, to compile her tax information and help her get her husband's materials organized. Although I did send a bill for the work (at her request), for me these sessions were much more about catching up and commiserating. Nancy died of breast cancer in March of 2005.

Having lost the only two "best" friends I have felt I've had in my adult life, I now know the meaning of the phrase "friends for life." I have many friends, associates and other relationships that have been continuous for my entire lifetime, or at least a good portion thereof. Of course, I've known my sisters for 49 (Amy) and almost 42 (Megan) years; I've known the woman I work with off and on since 1976 or 77; I have a few other folks I've known since college, which is nearly 30 years.

But no "best" friends; not really any friends for life. No one that I can call on, rely on or even impose upon, at least without feeling tremendous guilt. The "friend" test is that there is no guilt in the interaction; there is no feeling that one is imposing oneself, or that one has to worry about showing the bad or weak side. Best friends accept all, and do their best to help, if help is wanted. This is why I was able to see my friend Joy in the throes of Parkinson's disease, and feel terrible that I was losing her. I considered for awhile moving in with her to take care of her, but that was simply not possible. I felt badly that I wasn't able to do more for her.

I don't know if I'll be able to make another friend for life. I hope so, but at my age, everyone pretty much has their lifetime relationships sorted out, so there's little room for new ones. I do still hope I'll meet a man, but in the big picture, that person won't end up being my "best" friend, although the relationship experts say he should be.

I suppose if I could like myself it would be a start, eh?

Sorry to be so philosophical,
Catbird