As I wrote
Christmas cards, I mulled over on the nature of friendship. The cards are reserved
mainly for those I think about often but don't get a chance to see regularly. I
suppose too that the Christmas period, which brings the year to a close, is
another measure of the time I've had with the friends in my life. And that’s
always worth pondering.
I read somewhere
that most people are lucky if they have a couple of true long-term friends;
friends who want the best for you, who aren’t judgmental and who pull you into
line when you’re screwing up. Using that gauge, I consider myself lucky because
I have an abundance of those types of friends in my life. There’s Raffaele—he
was four and I was six when we met and remained neighbours for two decades. In
the 51 years since our first meeting we have had at least weekly contact. My
friend Jo and I met at the age of 12. We still catch up for coffee each week
and meet at other times depending on what life is dishing out. There is a
cluster of friends that extends back 20 years or so. Of course there are more
recently made friends, many of whom I already know will become part of that
long-term category.
What has kept our
friendships strong for so long? For me it’s this: I’m drawn to those I admire
and respect for the way they treat others and how their espoused values are congruent
with their actions. They live authentically. These friends are staunch and reliable;
they extend themselves when it’s not always comfortable to do so. Doesn’t
matter how busy they are they find space for our relationship. They invest in
honesty and they are genuinely interested in my life and that of others around
them. They are devoid of competitive natures within our friendship. They are fiercely
loyal and supportive. They celebrate my victories and commiserate my losses.
They pull me up when I'm being a jerk. They’re a reality check in my life. I
hope they see the same qualities in me.
I'm grateful that
my parents modeled friendship for me. They demonstrated that these special
relationships are made up of shared experience; thought and deed, good times
and tough. Recently, my father gave the eulogy at the funeral of his friend of
75 years. It was a friendship made up of reciprocal weekly visits, social
get-togethers, regular phone calls and always practical help. Shared time is
all these situations built a rich history. Dad delivered the eulogy without a
single written prompt. I was astounded at his eloquence in the circumstances
then it struck me that despite his distress, the ease of his speech came from
knowing his friend so well.
It’s said that
people come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. I've had lots
of seasonal friends—born of study and work situations. Some of these
relationships have taken root and become a sturdy part of my life, others have
blow away with the changing winds of circumstance and time. I don’t lament them;
every relationship has taught me something. Then when social media gave us a
new version of ‘friendship’, I wondered what it would mean for my son’s
generation. Would he experience friendship the way I feel I've been lucky enough
to do? I needn’t have worried. While he’s part of the social media savvy cohort
with lots of Facebook friends and a Twitter profile, he made an astute
observation, ‘Mum, one click doesn’t make a friendship. You have to sit with
your friend and look them in the eye, that’s where the relationship develops.’
He’s living by
that too. At the ripe old age of 28 he already has a mate of 23 years standing
and they spend a lot of time together. He recognises that friendships need an investment
of time and emotion. He’s taken to heart the lesson passed down from his
grandparents, living out Ralph Waldo Emerson words, ‘Go often the house of your
friend, for weeds choke the unused path.’
I'm glad in this
frenetic world we have lots of ways of high-tech ways of staying in touch with
one another, I'm a fan of these new media. But I still love the beautiful maintenance
work of friendship: the effort you expend to make someone else’s day, tweaking
your schedule to find the time to just ‘be’ in each other’s company, and yes,
even that daunting stack of Christmas cards you have to write.
