Lessons in Gratitude Day 928–Friends Indeed

Tonight I am grateful for my friend, Pat. I have been a guest at her home these two days. We have been friends since college—for over 35 years now. When I think about my relationship with Pat, I have to smile. At the time I met her I was shy and somewhat socially awkward (though it pains me to admit that.) So the likelihood of my being good friends with anyone was relatively small. I had a small circle of friends in my residence hall at college—people who’d been attracted to my guitar playing and wandered into my room to listen and stayed to learn more about me. But outside of that group I didn’t know many people and though I wanted to connect more with the African American students on campus, I was too shy to find my way into the circle. I spoke acknowledgment to everyone I passed but did not make connections.

It might have continued this way until my graduation if fate hadn’t intervened. I was walking from my residence hall toward the center of our large campus. As I looked ahead on the path I could see a young woman coming toward me. I had seen her many times—she lived in my residence hall or one near it and I frequently passed her, always speaking as we passed. On this particular day, as we got closer, she walked deliberately over to me.

That brief introduction had opened a door that I had been to shy to approach. Shortly after my encounter with Alma, I met Pat. Undoubtedly Alma was able to report to some of the other Black students in her circle that I indeed had a name and actually seemed at least friendly. Pat was one of those who directly or indirectly decided to find out. The rest, as they say, is history.

I am not quite sure how we became such good friends. We are temperamentally quite different and have distinctly different backgrounds and experiences. Yet we have such a heart connection that such differences do not register, especially after three decades of friendship. We’ve gone through marriages, divorces, and single parenthood together. We raised our sons together—Pat’s son is a few months younger than mine—commiserating on being single women trying to raise boys. I of course was also raising a daughter. Through many dangers, toils, and snares our friendship has endured. And though we lost touch with one another for a couple of years in the midst of some life drama Pat was experiencing as well as my own life challenges, we eventually reconnected and have not looked back. Separated by miles, we’ve maintained fairly regular contact, no more than a few weeks going by without some phone contact. We’re as likely to spend two hours on the phone in deep conversation as we are 30 minutes of quick catching up. Through it all, we make it work.

What makes for an enduring friendship? What are the elements of any “successful” relationship? “Love” alone is not enough—at least not in the ways love is portrayed in the mainstream. Love in the verb form requires a great deal of work. It is saying to another being, “I see you, and accept you for all of who you are—those parts I relate to and understand, as well as those that make me shake my head in confusion.” It says that I am here for you, will defend you with my life if necessary. That is a deep commitment and a standard that few people will achieve. For most of us, we won’t know we’re there until that’s tested.

I am grateful for the friendships and relationships I have forged over the years. Some are acquaintanceships that, while they have perhaps lasted many years never went very deep. Friends like Pat are very nearly family–she’s my fourth sister. I echo this sentiment shared by author and activist Helen Keller: “So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good.” Good indeed, and I am grateful.