F is for Friendships— The Company we Keep Along the Way

 Writing about friendships for the A to Z Blog Challenge shouldn’t be much of a challenge, says the woman who has only typed eleven words on the topic so far. Still, I can think of many sitcoms built entirely around friendships—Cheers, Seinfeld, Friends, Sex and the City, How I Met Your Mother, and The Big Bang Theory to name a few of my favorites. (That should tell you something about what I look for in a friend.) The characters in those shows are flawed and quirky, but sitcom writers don’t create them in a vacuum. They pull from real life and enlarge the flaws so we can’t miss the stereotypes we might meet in our own lives. Somewhere in my archives I even compared fellow residents in my continuum care community to Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha (Sex and the City.) I could easily do the same with the other shows.

Jess C. Scott wrote, “Friends are the family you choose,” and it would be hard to disagree. But since moving into my CCC, I’ve noticed how loosely some people use the word friend. I’ve been introduced that way by people who don’t know the first thing about me beyond the fact that I started the First Thursdays Desserts Only Club. If I were introducing someone here, I’d probably say, “This is so‑and‑so. She started the line dancing group,” or whatever fact I can tag the person with. Hearing “This is my friend, Jean,” never fails to make me wonder what makes us friends. If you don’t know a person’s last name, that’s an acquaintance in my book. But I suppose it would sound cold to introduce me to someone’s son or daughter with, “This is my acquaintance, Jean.” Not that I would care.

Experts say there are four types of friends: acquaintances, casual friends, close friends, and lifelong friends. I’d add situational friends—work friends, school friends, neighborhood friends. People we don’t see outside the bubble where we’re thrown together.

Verywellmind.com defines a good friend as “someone who respects your boundaries, supports you, and brings out the best in you.” I agree, and I’d add that a good friend is someone you can laugh with, cry with and trust with your secrets, knowing they’ll keep them in a vault. I’ve been lucky enough to have a lifelong friend since kindergarten, and I’m guessing that’s rare. Had she not moved 656 miles away after college and getting married, we probably would have driven our husbands nuts with our giggle‑fests. Distance changed the way we interacted, but not the fact that our roots are tangled from growing up within view of each other’s houses. After she married, we became avid pen pals. Then when cell phones came along, ending long‑distance charges, we kept in touch that Way. Recently, after her sons moved her into assisted living, Nancy asked them to bring her some stationery and stamps so she could write to me again. Everything old is new again.

A few years after Nancy was no longer part of my daily life, I met my husband, and Don took her place as my best, best friend. We were together for 42 years, so I’m calling him my half‑a‑life‑long friend. (Take it up with the management if you think that’s absurd.) We knew each other’s faults and strengths and supported each other through thick and thin—an overused phrase, but I can’t think of a more poetic way to describe our relationship. And with him came a group of neighborhood friends. We could laugh together over Saturday‑night pizzas, but sharing secrets or sensitive information? Not on your life. But on the surface, I suppose, we looked like I sitcom.

One reason I’ve always loved sitcoms built around a group of friends is because I could live vicariously through them. Only once in my life did I have a friendship circle like that. After my husband died and I was spending time at the senior hall, they held an event called “Looking for Friends,” or something similar—an event that, under different circumstances, would have falsely marked anyone attending as an apathetic loser. (Think teenagers with fragile egos.) But we were widows, and we started meeting for lunch, then movies—yada, yada, yada. We shared a sense of humor, laughed at the same throw‑away lines and could toss our own right back. Then Covid came along and nearly dealt a death blow to the group. As they say, friendships change over time, and even the good ones have expiration dates.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t include another kind of friendship: the ones that grow across generations within a family. I’ve watched my two nieces become wonderful mothers and grandmothers. I’ve watched them grow into remarkable human beings. And I’ve been privileged to watch our relationships shift from niece‑and‑aunt to equal adults who are also friends. I’ve seen a few mother‑daughter duels that eventually make that same transition. It’s a wonderful kind of bond to have in one’s life.

Whatever form they take, friendships have a way of evolving right along with us. They change shape over the years, but they never stop shaping us. ©

Photo: The Gathering Girls trying to teach each other new tricks on our cell phones.