The Natural Churn of Friendship

Andy and Barney.  Friends.

Fonzie and Richie.  Friends.

Lucy and Ethel.  Friends.

And, thanks to reruns, they remain so.  Leaning on each other for support.  Getting each other out of jams.  Losing that race with the chocolate candy conveyor belt over and over.

In some cases, these are friendships that have lasted for forty or fifty years.  And I've got a couple of long termers myself and we were never on television.  

But, as life moves on and your world changes, you see that, indeed, most friends come and go.  Friendships you thought would be forever barely last five years.  Pals that you, for a long time, viewed as nothing more than acquaintances suddenly rise up before you as gold nuggets.  You try to figure out how you managed so long without them.

I've been thinking about this all of late.  Over the past two years, my life has done a complete 180 degree turn, both professionally and personally.  Very few people understand it.  But, during those periods such as this one for me, you are often astounded by the level of friendship from some.

And deflated and saddened by the actions of some.

When it comes to a shoulder to lean on, I won't ask for one.  But I welcome one when it is offered, whether I need it or not.

My long termers never waver.  Several have been there since childhood.  And don't miss a beat.  But, as you make your journey, you pick up new friends along the path.   Your friends from high school.  Your friends from college.  Your friends from this job.  Your friends from that job.  

I am realizing that, in those categories, those unions are not built to last.  Oh, they helped get you through a decade or two.  But it never lasts.  Spouses play into the equation.  Careers intervene.  And, suddenly, you're nothing more than one more address label that gets the annual holiday newsletter.

This is not a pity party, so no need to open up a bottle of Cabarnet.  This is simply inevitable.  And unavoidable.

It is the natural churn of friendship.

And what makes this so unique is that you can still get surprises from one day to the next.

I am thinking about one work associate.  We did business together in our last venue until she left.  But we stayed in touch.  And, suddenly out of nowhere, I discover a friendship that is strong and dependable.  I wonder how much more my life would have been enriched if I knew that person sooner.

I am thinking about two grade school chums.  Unconnected for years, but now happily reunited on Facebook and beyond as if our lives had stopped in their tracks.

I am thinking about a few college friends who I have not physically seen in years.  Yet, we connect on Facebook and the virtual patter is comfortable and familiar.  No beats have been missed.

I am thinking about a college pal.  We were inseparable in the day.  But life did the divorce ultimately to the point where we barely have a relationship today.  I ask a simple question in an e-mail last spring.  I am still waiting for an answer, even though I see the person on Twitter every single day answering the questions sent by common strangers.

I think about other phone calls that go unanswered and others that arrive on my Droid out of the blue.  I appreciate those that call to check in and hopefully enjoy the fact that I do it in the reciprocal.  I hear of one friend who asks everybody how I am but never calls me directly.  

There are so many stories like this.   All of them unique snowflakes in the blizzard of life.  I look at my closest circle today.  There are those who have been with me for ages.  There are others who have been with me for less than five years.   And, almost inevitably, I wonder if this mix will change again perhaps two or three more times in my time here.

There will be people who read this blog post and will call me immediately, worried that they are the ones I'm pointing fingers at.  Indeed, those will be the same people who I hear from all the time and are there regardless.  The others will be...simply...the others.  Quiet as usual. 

I cherish the friends now.  I question the friends of the past.  And I realize that this churn of friendship is almost universal. 

Dinner last night:  Chopped salad.