friendships over time
I met a friend from elementary school last spring. The last time we’d seen each other had been 6th grade - before puberty hit either of us - and we hadn’t been in touch since. (It was right around then that I moved five hours away, down the east coast to another state.) But I had been in touch with another girl, and, as things work, had gotten back into touch with my old friend.
We used to play foursquare outside her house, a cul-de-saq where no cars came. Her mom loved to buy huge boxes of Fruit Leather and the only time I got to eat them was when I had a playdate with this girl. I learned about natural mosquito repellant for the first time when I camped in her backyard.
We have a picture of the two of us, both skinny little sticks, wearing shorts and t-shirts with sweatshirts tied around our waists, sitting against the brick wall of the elementary school building. When I met her again I didn’t recognize her at first.
“Who is this person giving me a hug?” I thought. Then I realized who it must be. Did I mention that the last time I saw her was before puberty? She wasn’t a skinny stick anymore. Then again, neither am I.
But with very little friction we were able to slip back into our relationship as friends. I could be silly around her, something I reserve for good friends only, because we were good friends. We knew each other. We had skipped some years, but gossip would cover that.
And this leads me to wondering what makes relationships stick.
This girl, I hadn’t stayed in touch with at all. With no Facebook yet, and neither of us big phone callers or letter writers, we hadn’t spoken to each other for years. Another girl, the one I made the connection through, I stayed in touch with mostly because our parents were friends and they stayed in touch. But at the same time, we talked on the phone occasionally, and made sure to visit if we were in the area. A third girl, one I emailed recently and haven’t heard back from, became a pen pal after the move down the coast. We talked on the phone occasionally, but I haven’t seen her since before college, or even heard from her for a few years now.
So what made the difference? The first girl I’m back in touch with, the second I’ve always been in touch with, and the third I’ve lost touch with.
It can’t only be time. The third girl is (was?) my oldest friend - from Mommy&Me classes. The first I met in kindergarten, and the second in first or second grade. So the difference is not in how long we were friends.
Part of it is a willingness to stay in touch or get back in touch. And I suppose that goes along with personality.
I would be tempted to say it’s whether I need these girls as friends, or they need me, but I don’t think it’s a need at all. I have friends, and having a friend who lives five hours away can be more of a hassle than a boon. But perhaps it is a need. Perhaps it’s a need to not lose touch. Maybe there are people who want webs of friends and people who like to live apart.
For me, I think, it’s an unwillingness to let go of what was a good friendship. We had fun together. Why should that be over just because we don’t live down the block from one another? Why should remembering those fun times turn into nostalgia? Why can’t we still be friends, albeit slightly farther away, and have those girls’ nights out once a year rather than once a week? Why not?
We used to play foursquare outside her house, a cul-de-saq where no cars came. Her mom loved to buy huge boxes of Fruit Leather and the only time I got to eat them was when I had a playdate with this girl. I learned about natural mosquito repellant for the first time when I camped in her backyard.
We have a picture of the two of us, both skinny little sticks, wearing shorts and t-shirts with sweatshirts tied around our waists, sitting against the brick wall of the elementary school building. When I met her again I didn’t recognize her at first.
“Who is this person giving me a hug?” I thought. Then I realized who it must be. Did I mention that the last time I saw her was before puberty? She wasn’t a skinny stick anymore. Then again, neither am I.
But with very little friction we were able to slip back into our relationship as friends. I could be silly around her, something I reserve for good friends only, because we were good friends. We knew each other. We had skipped some years, but gossip would cover that.
And this leads me to wondering what makes relationships stick.
This girl, I hadn’t stayed in touch with at all. With no Facebook yet, and neither of us big phone callers or letter writers, we hadn’t spoken to each other for years. Another girl, the one I made the connection through, I stayed in touch with mostly because our parents were friends and they stayed in touch. But at the same time, we talked on the phone occasionally, and made sure to visit if we were in the area. A third girl, one I emailed recently and haven’t heard back from, became a pen pal after the move down the coast. We talked on the phone occasionally, but I haven’t seen her since before college, or even heard from her for a few years now.
So what made the difference? The first girl I’m back in touch with, the second I’ve always been in touch with, and the third I’ve lost touch with.
It can’t only be time. The third girl is (was?) my oldest friend - from Mommy&Me classes. The first I met in kindergarten, and the second in first or second grade. So the difference is not in how long we were friends.
Part of it is a willingness to stay in touch or get back in touch. And I suppose that goes along with personality.
I would be tempted to say it’s whether I need these girls as friends, or they need me, but I don’t think it’s a need at all. I have friends, and having a friend who lives five hours away can be more of a hassle than a boon. But perhaps it is a need. Perhaps it’s a need to not lose touch. Maybe there are people who want webs of friends and people who like to live apart.
For me, I think, it’s an unwillingness to let go of what was a good friendship. We had fun together. Why should that be over just because we don’t live down the block from one another? Why should remembering those fun times turn into nostalgia? Why can’t we still be friends, albeit slightly farther away, and have those girls’ nights out once a year rather than once a week? Why not?