Celebrating Friendship
August 2012

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.” - Albert Camus

         I recently returned from a trip to Buffalo where I shared a communal milestone birthday with 19 women who all grew up together. Who could have imagined we would find ourselves in the same room at the age of 75, celebrating the strength of the old connections. Some of these women became my friends in kindergarten, some in Brownies and Girl Scouts, and some in high school; and each of them has left an imprint on me, in ways I may not even be able to identify. I know this because my heart feels the connection, although I can’t help but wonder how we chose to be friends in the first place.

         We don’t look alike, and we certainly don’t even think alike. We are friends because when we met, we touched one another’s heart in some undefined way, and made an unconscious decision to be friends. Some of us were good students, some not so much. Some friendships were built on admiration; some on a sense of humor. Some became friends, because they were friends with another friend. Some had harsh and critical personalities; others were easy going and warm.

         It didn’t matter who was rich and who was poor. It didn’t matter who had parents with European accents, and whose parents were American born. And it certainly didn’t matter who had many siblings and who was an only child. We all knew each other’s parents, and many of us had siblings who were friends with our friends’ siblings. Individually we brought our own personalities to the group and accepted each other unconditionally.

         I sat in the Buffalo airport, waiting to board my plane back to Florida, and looked around the waiting room expecting to see someone I knew, the way it used to be when I still lived in Buffalo. There was not a familiar face in the crowd, and it left me with an unexplained, uncomfortable feeling. I boarded my plane thinking that nothing could compare to those long term friendships from my youth, but within a few minutes after take-off, I thought about my busy life in Boca with my Florida friends, and I began to rethink the meaning of friendship.

         As much as I appreciate the friendships of my youth, I had to acknowledge the powerful connections with my friends in Florida. These are not all new friendships. Many of them were cultivated in Buffalo, before we each moved to Florida. Many of the other friendships are more than 25 years duration, and the collection continues to grow. More importantly, these friendships are based on who I am today, not the person I was during my school years.

         I continue to play in a couples bridge club that began 26 years ago, even though my husband has been gone for almost five years and I am no longer part of a couple. My friends have been by my side through good times and sad times. They have been generous, understanding, appreciative, and loving. Like my Buffalo friends, many of these Florida friends know my children and remember my mother. They know my sisters; they ask about my brothers, and they root for me, no matter what. And each one is someone special.                      

        Because these friends were consciously chosen with an adult eye, they have the values I admire most, and personalities that enhance my own life. I may not have known their parents or their siblings, but I know them. These friendships stand on their own, without the encumbrances of childhood folly, and we share a loyalty and love that is enhanced by our maturity.

         So when I hear people say that Florida friendships are superficial compared to home town relationships, I vociferously disagree. All my friendships, whether they originated in Buffalo or Boca Raton, are highlighted by a history that has a luster polished by time. They may have a different origin, and a different character, but they are still just as precious whether we see each other every day, once a week, once a month or once a year.

         While some relationships get tucked away for a while, stored in safekeeping so they can be revisited from time to time, others are with me from day to day. Who’s to say which are more important? True friendships aren’t for a season, or for a reason. They are all gifts, with many layers, to be cherished for a lifetime, either in real time or in memory.