The dying art of friendship

If I asked you, "How many friends do you have?" what would you say? How would you quantify that question? Your Christmas card list (assuming you still send Christmas cards)? High school friends? Drinking buddies? Folks you work with? Or would you totally miss the boat, open your FaceBook app, look at your profile photo, and recite that number under your name? It all boils down to how you define that word, 'friend.' And how do you know, without a doubt, someone is your friend? Throughout my life I’ve made several friends, grown out of some, and even married one. Acquaintances and work relationships often blossomed into friendships--high school, military career, volunteer life, church, etc. I am not at a loss for friends. My problem is I often confuse 'friendly acquaintance' with friend, and then I attach qualities and requisites of a friend to people who, through no fault of their own, never meant to be my friend...they were simply being someone and kind, keeping me company. 

So what is a friend? Acquaintance? Social media follower? Confidant? Companion? Bestie? What are the qualities of that person that makes them your friend? Is it how often you see each other? The things you have in common? The American Heritage Dictionary says a friend is "a person whom one knows and trusts, is allied with in a struggle or cause, and one seeks out the society of someone out of esteem and respect;" and the esteemed Merriam Webster dictionary echoes that by saying a friend is "someone attached to another by affection and esteem"(while at the same time saying it's a person included in the list of social media connections.) 

But seriously, do you really need to use a dictionary or Google to define what you consider to be a friend? Ask the smallest child to name one of their friends, and you will get an answer in seconds, so it seems children know a friend when they see one. My first friend…I was five years old, we’d just moved into my nana’s house and I was sad. I was lonely. As I sat on the concrete steps of the front porch I watched as a little girl about the same age as me walked up the sidewalk to the porch, stopped, looked at me and said, “Hi, my name is Tina.  Wanna be friends?”  She was my friend no matter how my day was going. Four years later we clung to each other, sobbing, each one trying to console the other…I was moving…again.  Over six decades later I still remember her name, her smile, her family, and reminisce about all the fun things we did, games we played, Barbies we dressed, and the giggles we shared. I was her friend, she was my friend; there was no doubt about it whatsoever. 

Kids make friends pretty easily, probably because there's no baggage attached, no preconceived notions, no gossip. It's when we get older that making and keeping friends gets more difficult, complicated; for some reason human beings become jaded, suspicious, guarded, and self-centered instead of open, curious, and compassionate. Watch a group of kids in a school lunchroom, a playground, or at an event their parents dragged them to...the children naturally seek out other children, take interest in what the other is doing, and want to join in. Recently I took my 9-year old granddaughter to a community river fest in a small town near our home; the fest included river fun, information tents sponsored by various nature groups, food trucks, and tons of families. Within 10 minutes, Sophie asked if she could go play with the kids by the river; I agreed as long as she stayed where I could keep eyes on her. Four hours later, when everything was shutting down and it was time for folks to leave, kids all over were hugging and hollering their goodbyes, looking as if they were losing their best friends, friends made that afternoon. 

Whether we as a society have forgotten how to make friends, how to treat them, or how to keep them, I do know FaceBook is not the answer.

Death Knell of a Friendship

When I was seven years old we lived in my nana's house on a little street in a nice neighborhood where there were lots of families with children and we'd play outside with each other; my best friend lived next door--Tina Tenunfeld. We played dolls, walked to school together, and swore we would be friends forever. That was 1962. We moved the following year and I haven't seen her since.

Starting in fourth grade, I attended St Clare elementary school for the next five years, then McAuley High School for freshman and sophomore years and was friends with four other girls for those years; we hung out at each other's homes, were in Girl Scouts together, passed notes at school when the nuns were not looking, and went downtown to go shopping on weekends. We were convinced we would get married and have kids, live on the same street, and grow old together. That was 1970. Never saw those girls again.

In 1971, I changed schools in the middle of my junior year in high school because I moved in with my dad and stepmom--that was rough because the school was huge, with over 1,000 kids in the graduating class. I got on the school bus on my first day, and sat in an empty seat by a window. At the next stop, a girl with long, dark red hair got on, laughing and talking to everyone else on the bus; she sat down next to me and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Jenny!" That was the introduction to a beautiful friendship--we were inseparable! I was maid of honor in her wedding (to which I was over an hour late!), and we were such good friends she refused to start her wedding until I got there, breathless and crying. We still send each other Christmas cards, connect occasionally on FaceBook, but other than that, nothing. The last time I saw Jenny was probably 25-30 years ago. We were "best friends."

Through the years, I have met thousands of people, become acquaintances with many, friends with some. Friends have come, friends have gone, but few have remained through the years. Some have simply moved away or grown apart, with only 3 or 4 leaving as a result of a disagreement or misunderstanding. But most? Well they simply outlived the friendship due to not having anything in common. Right now I probably have less than 10 really good friends--people with whom our friendship is an easy, fluid thing. We understand each other, celebrate each other's joys and cry together over loss. We laugh, joke, pray, and honestly would do anything for the other. I cherish these friends and the relationships we have. At my age, great friends are worth their weight in gold.

Sometimes, however, someone who seems to be a friend, maybe even a "best" friend, is not what they seem, or our lives bifurcate so abruptly that the friendship becomes strained. Communication that was once easy and effortless becomes less frequent and mundane. Phone calls and video chats are replaced with text messages and tags on FaceBook posts, and this person you thought was your BFF turns out to be someone with whom you have nothing whatsoever in common, nothing but having known each other for two decades or more. But you hang on, resuscitating it, even shocking it with the defibrillator paddles every so often, in a futile attempt to keep it alive. Finally, however, you realize there is nothing more to be done. There is no cure, no magic elixir, no miracle that can revive this "friendship." And you look back. And realize you wanted a best friend so badly that you yoked yourself to a person with whom you had nothing in common. Sure you had fun, you loved each other's company, but in the end, you were both so diametrically different, so toxic to each other, it was a wonder it lasted as long as it did. 

The older I get, the more I realize what a true friend should be. A true friend shares commonalities; in my case, we must share a love for Christ.

"Know this: In the last days perilous times will come. Men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, slanderers, unrestrained, fierce, despisers of those who are good, traitors, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God, having a form of godliness, but denying its power. Turn away from such people." (2 Timothy 3:1-5)

"Cast out the scorner, and contention will go out; yes, strife and reproach will cease." (Proverbs 22:10)

"Make no friendship with an angry man, and with a furious man you will not go, lest you learn his ways and get a snare to your soul." (Proverbs 22:24-25)

Fitting in when you're growing old

Girls, remember how hard it was to fit in when you were in high school? There were the smart girls, the popular girls, the cheerleaders, the jocks. I thought we left all those childish things behind, that we could be friends with whomever we want. But sadly those cliques never went away. 

It’s so frustrating to want to be friends with someone only to be rebuffed because of your age or what area of the country you are from, or even based on your stage of life. Women I meet look at me and see someone in their 60s, or someone not from here, when I don’t even give it a second thought how old I look or what my accent sounds like (although there are days I look in the mirror and wonder who is staring back at me). I just feel like me, I don’t feel like an age; I just want to make friends. Sure I am in my 60s, and my kids are grown and they have kids, but I am personable and funny and sensitive and have a lot of experience to share, a lot of stories to tell. But I am too “different” for some people. Why do women want to limit their exposure to people just like them? They could learn so much more, and share what they know too.

You know what’s not fair? Men over the age of 22 can be friends with any guys regardless of how old they are; they can hang out, talk, go to breakfast together, share stories, play sports, do Bible studies, tell dumb jokes, the list is endless. They can be single, married, divorced, or widowed. They can have kids or grandkids or great grandkids or none at all. They can be tradesman, white collar workers, or unemployed. That Y chromosome is the universal link tying them together.  But women?  No way. Women are agists; they adhere to a strict, unwritten, genetically implanted set of parameters that define in no uncertain terms who can belong to what groups. 

First, women divide themselves by profession or place of employment. Teachers, medical personnel, stay at home moms, lawyers, service employees such as waitresses and massage therapists, retail employees, business owners,…you get the point. Then, women sort themselves by decade (20s, 30s, 40s, and then anyone over 50), and marital status (single, married, widow, divorced [look out], and of course the perennially engaged/no wedding in sight. Next, you have the kids—who has them, who doesn’t, and more importantly, the children’s ages and school grade level. Where you’re from definitely matters, and hobbies and lifestyles narrow it down even more. Why does all this matter? What should matter is values, beliefs, religion, not the age or income demographic you fit into. 

Take, for example, the churches we have attended—my husband always seems to blend right in with men of all ages and backgrounds, but I feel nudged toward a certain group of ladies, all in their 60s and above, most of whom I nothing else in common with. My personality and energy level fit more with some of the younger women, but I get the distinct impression they are convinced I just don’t fit in—too old, too different. Sure everyone is friendly and sweet (it is church, ya know), but there are just far too many differences to overcome: parents were divorced, former Catholic, colorful past, second marriage, retired military. And it’s not just at church—I have volunteered in many capacities in our local community, and organize annual fundraisers for childhood cancer research. Through those activities I interact with a lot of people, and I am known and recognized, but the relationship stops short of forming a real friendship.

Having spent over half of my adult life in the military, I was accustomed to working with and for all kinds of people, from all over the world and every walk of life. I made friends for life, friends who would do anything for me and my family.  I miss fitting in with everyone, and having that common thread tying us together. To this day, my military comrades will randomly reach out and chat or call or even send a card. We attend weddings and 50th birthday parties and funerals; we keep in touch. And if we haven't seen each other for ten years, we just pick up where we left off, as if we just saw each yesterday. At the airport or in a restaurant, when two military members meet, there is an immediate unspoken rapport and understanding that defies explanation, an invisible bond. I think that is what I miss the most here, made all the harder by the artificially imposed limitations on who can be in my friendship circle. And no, I don’t want to move (yet) close to a military installation. Maybe I just want to be included in the friendship circles around me, to show them what they are missing, to take a chance, to go out on a limb to get to know me. 

Barring that, I'll cultivate the friendships of those who genuinely want to be my friends. Including my best friend--that guy I've been with for 33 years.

The unbreakable bond

"Urgent...Call me. ASAP. Not a scam, spam or joke." This was the message we received Sunday morning, sent to our Top Three, a bunch of retired senior noncommissioned officers who 20 years ago formed an unbreakable bond while working in the intel division at Shaw AFB, SC. All of us were in the top three of the enlisted tier; some were active duty at the time, some retired and working as contractors, but we all had one thing in common: our love for the military and each other. What started as an official group quickly morphed into something more intimate, having frequent get togethers at each others' homes as one member would announce "Top three at so and so's house this weekend!" These much anticipated gatherings involved a lot of food (usually ribs or brisket BBQ'd by Bill), beer, and fellowship, punctuated of course by comical hijinks (usually Tim, Kevin, and Liz). Some of my best memories are from these top three parties, and are etched into my brain forever. To an outsider these "parties" looked like any other party, but they were oh so much more; there was an unspoken promise to members to always be there for each other and their families, no matter what. Despite living separate lives miles apart and rarely seeing each other, if at all, that bond has persisted to this day.

As we get older, the group has dwindled as first one, then another, dies. We've lost Tim, Ronshella, and Steve. Someone notifies those of us remaining via a Facebook message to the group, and we gather to say farewell to yet another brother or sister. If we are lucky we have one final top three with someone who we know won't be around much longer, but usually the announcement of a death comes as a jolting shock. Such was the message on Sunday: one of our brothers was killed in a motorcycle accident the night before, leaving a wife of nearly 30 years, a son, daughter, and a brand new grandson. 

For those who have never served in the military, especially in the top enlisted tier, the camaraderie and closeness we share is incomprehensible. Our connection transcends distance, time, and station in life; it follows us to the grave, but does it stop there? Eating my breakfast in silence and prayer, memories flooded in about him--his love of life, spontaneity, loyalty, hilarious antics, dedication to the military and the United States, and most of all, his devotion and love for his family. Then it hits me...did he know Jesus? Will he be there when my time comes to leave this earth? Did I ever share my faith with him, or pray for him, or for the others, people I claim such a kinship? Am I doing all I can to carry that bond beyond the grave?

Sure, life is short, people get old, we die, and life goes on--on earth, anyway. But what about eternal life? Do I share the joy of my salvation with those I love and cherish, or do I hide my light under the proverbial bushel basket? When the message goes out to our group informing them I have died, what will their thoughts be? Will they be assured I am in heaven? Will they even remember me as a Christian, as one who was passionate about her love for Jesus? When they try to remember my face, will it be the image of someone who lived for Jesus or for the world? Will it shock them that I was a Christian?

Urgent...pray now. ASAP. 

Kevin...I will always remember you for your loyalty, professionalism, patriotism, your ability to make everyone laugh, your crazy antics, but most of all for your love and devotion for your family. Ride on, Kevin, ride on.

Crossroads

Friends are an integral part of life. Some friends are for life, others just fade into the background, and some just grow apart. If you’re lucky enough you’ll have a friend who gets you, who knows what you’re feeling without you saying a word, who shares similar interests and values. In my life I’ve experienced all of these. I’ve kept friends, gained new friends, even lost a friend or two; I even have one friend, my best friend in high school, who I’ve known for 50 years…half a century…who I only see once every 15 years or so, but we can pick up where we left off without missing a beat. What I’ve learned though is as I get older and grow as a person and a Christian, I get closer to God while growing away from some of my friends, which is fine if they’re casual friendships, but what if those friends don't share your faith or your values or morals?  

It is so difficult to ascertain how to respond, or even IF to respond, when friends brag about sexual exploits, express anger over the Supreme Court overturning Roe v Wade, or even just share cruel gossip. Sometimes I feel myself getting pulled into their conversations, even if just passively, and that makes me just as culpable. Do I speak up? Do I walk away? Change the subject? Or do I just wanly smile at their "jokes" and feel superior?

I’m not holy, I’m not perfect, and I try so hard to avoid being self-righteous when I share the gospel. Well, when I THINK I am sharing the gospel. In actuality, when someone says something that makes me cringe, something completely unbiblical, I will sometimes mutter some platitude or watered down gospel, because I am afraid if I share the unadulterated truth, I will be laughed at or shunned. In other words, I have just made friendship and social acceptance, more important than their souls. Worse yet, I am trying to change hearts, instead of planting seeds, living the gospel, and then praying for the Holy Spirit to do His work. 

My answer? Love. Just love my friends, my family, and strangers whether or not they are believers. Let them see Christ through my actions, not just my words.

This little light of mine

I’m in Texas visiting my friend this week, my best friend actually, whom I haven’t seen for nearly two years. She has been going through some life changes, life changes that seem to me to be repeats from her past choices. Since January 2019 we’ve been communicating via text and videochats, and while that’s fine for mundane issues or catching up about kids and the job, it is woefully inadequate to discuss life’s deeper issues, and definitely not the channel to discuss divorce, bitter child custody disputes, or the desperate need for God in our lives. I’ve shared my faith before, and hopefully I reflect Christ. All the chats and talks since last year have been fraught with emotion and misperceptions, and everything I said seemed to generate more misunderstanding. So little wonder that I was initially conflicted about traveling and confronting her about the issues that are heavy on her heart; however, I decided, finally, to come and confront the dragon (not my friend—the glaring issues). 

Part of my visit overlapped her weekend custody of her 5-year old, Nora--a precocious little ball of energy and the center of this nearly year-long controversy over who will get to raise her. We had a fun weekend, trying to just have a "normal" fun time at the beach, reading books, watching movies, and the like; it also included me teaching her little ditties and snippets of songs. One that popped in my head the other evening was "this little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." 

I had been so worried about what to say, what to do, how to express my love and support and friendship, and it was all in that sweet, simple song from childhood Sunday school. Let my little light shine.

"For this very reason make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For these qualities are yours are are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ...for if you practice these qualities you will never fall." (2 Peter 1:5-8, 10

Friendship

When I was a little girl, I had very few friends, and over the years, although I've met many, many people, that still rings true. I have gained friends and lost friends, and both experiences are completely beyond my comprehension; many people whom I considered as friends turned out to not be friends at all. I don't say that to garner sympathy, but to emphasize that true friends are rare, and, as Robert Louis Stevenson said, a friend is a gift we give ourselves.  

The meaning of friendship has cheapened over the past decade, thanks largely to our addiction to social media sites like FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram. A friend used to be someone with whom you had a close bond, not sexual, not family, but someone with whom you share a mutual attraction. Friends share secrets, jokes, a past--a true friend knows you better than you know yourself. Songs have been written about friends, a TV show made six young people famous overnight, and adages abound regarding friends.  "A friend in need is a friend indeed." (old English proverb); "Make new friends, keep the old, one is silver and the other gold." (old Girl Scout song); "What a friend we have in Jesus!" (Joseph Scriven,) "Oooh, you're making me live, you're my best friend!" (Freddie Mercury), "A sweet friendship refreshes the soul." (Proverbs 27:9), "A single soul dwelling in two bodies" (Aristotle).

Nowadays, a "friend" is just a face on a website, a name, a tally on a list.  This friend could be a relative, a co-worker, an acquaintance, a friend of one of your friends, a friend's children, or a customer. More often than not, a friend could  be someone we have not even physically met.  "Friend requests" are akin to offering someone a piece of gum.  According to FaceBook, I have 301 "friends," yet many of the people I consider close friends and actually speak to on something other than a screen are not even on FaceBook, let alone on that list.  What was once just a noun has become a verb, and created new words in the urban lexicon. Someone "friends" you to be in your social circle, and "unfriending" has become the internet equivalent of a cold shoulder, a schoolyard spat, or "talk to the hand."  Want to shun someone? Take more drastic action by "blocking" him, effectively cutting that person out of your social media circle completely. So complicated, and so meaningless--we are constantly checking our friends' statuses, looking at photos, commenting on their posts, all the while not even truly engaged in communicating with each other. Heck, many times we are with OTHER friends while we rudely keep our faces buried in our phones and tablets to "talk" to our virtual, not-present friends.  

So, why the rant today? Tired of friend requests from people I barely know, or people who would rather not even speak to me. Disgusted that I actually stooped to practically begging to be "friends" with some of my relatives, even though they haven't spoken to me for years. Shocked that I had to resort to "blocking" most of my immediate family members to prevent online harassment. Hurt that there are family members who actually equate FaceBook "friendship" with a real relationship. Embarrassed that I actually gauge my likability rating in my family by who is my friend, and who is not. Sick of the overuse of words that used to mean something:  Like. Love. Friend. Sad.  Happy. Angry. Hate. 

Most of all, I am trying to reconcile my faith, my beliefs, and my love of Christ with all of this. Not all my friends are Christians, but they are still my friends. Not all my friends are on FaceBook, and not all my FaceBook friends are really my friends.  

I wish FaceBook would just use a different word than "friend." How about "face?"  Or "person of interest," or "contact,"  or "practically meaningless virtual person?"  

Just not "friend."

Kool and the Gang

This is a picture of me and my boss, Mr. Tom Tutt, plus a couple of other co workers, outside our building. I think that is my laundry bag I am holding...not really sure...and I felt like wearing pink that day