We have an old file cabinet in the basement. It has become a repository for refrigerator magnets that no longer warrant a spot in the kitchen. There are multiple Twins magnet schedules and promotional magnets for businesses that have passed on.
Among them is a stained oval of forgotten origin. In calligraphic scroll it says, “The only way to have a friend is to be one. Ralph Waldo Emerson.” It caught my attention the other day. I thought, “That’s a lot of pressure. Can’t I just have a friend without the work?” The answer to my tongue-in-cheek question is of course no. Ralph Waldo had it right.
Reaching an age when one can “look back,” I see friends have had different roles in my life. Having fun together tops that list. But there have been times when someone picked me up or told me something I needed to hear. Having a friend is not to be taken for granted.
When we arrive from the womb, to some degree we face a harsh and unforgiving world alone. To have first a family and second, friends is not a given. Having these in our lives can add joy to the good days and offer safe harbor on the bad days.
So where do friends come from? Proximity and timing are important. I remember being in grade school and having different sets of friends depending who was in my classroom that year. If I saw a friend from last year on the playground, it was like they had moved to a foreign country.
Since I’m back in the old home town, I still have friends in town who were with me in 4th grade. Part of a friendship is having a set of shared experiences that you can call back to and build upon. That is certainly the case with school friends. We can tell stories about Sr. Remy and Mr. Spoden that are half a century old now.
Those friends knew me when I was sort of a geek. Then again, I knew them when they had a crush on that one girl and they had a heinie haircut. We all did stupid things in high school. Part of these old friendships is knowing skeletons in each other’s closets.
In modern terms these are my homies. Mike is one of my homies. We were talking a while ago about not hunting. For a lot of guys, deer camp is where they go to bond. We take baseball trips with friends, but we’re not sure this counts as a true guy thing. We decided we might have to go kill an animal someday. Neither is inclined to go first.
There are a couple sources of potential friends I don’t have. I don’t have neighbors, at least none close enough to talk with across the fence. Sociologists write about people not having front porches any more, a symbol for less interaction with those living nearby. But I know people who have friends in their neighborhood.
I also don’t have coworkers. A workplace puts one in close proximity with others, people working toward common goals. There’s the possibility of driving each other nuts, but friendships can take root there. I have worked some part time jobs with actual human beings. More often I’m out here on the farm, me and the dog.
Farmers work alone, but we see each other at the implement dealer, feed store, etc. When we do, there are obvious connections. We share the same weather, markets, and crazy government programs. I learn from other farmers and enjoy their company.
As we raised children, we became close to parents who matched up with our children’s ages and activities. When you’re hosting birthday parties, watching ballgames, and chaperoning school trips, you have a lot of time to share. Plus you have in common the goal of raising these rug rats to be contributing members of society. Our kids graduated, but some of these parents remain in our realm of friends.
Some of it is dumb luck. Years ago, I went to Hardee’s early to read the newspapers and drink coffee. I’m not particularly social in the morning. But I gradually came to know the manager bringing refills and the guy sitting in the next booth who worked across the street. Scott and Greg remain good friends.
A small town lends itself to familiarity with lots of people you cross paths with, even if they are not bosom friends. There are bunch of people I know who are acquaintance/friends. We may not see each other often, but if we end up on barstools or leaving church together, we fall into discussion of some depth quickly.
There are relationships I have not kept up, and that is a regret. There were college friends who were close for important and formative years in my life. We drifted away after graduation. Perhaps Facebook would have kept us in touch if there were such a thing forty years ago.
There are family members I consider friends. But immediate family have different roles. I’ve come to enjoy my adult children, but that will forever be as a father. That is different than a friend. There are responsibilities that are unique to that. I remember even as my parents grew into their eighties, they never quit being my mother and father. I needed that.
Then there is Pam. I have heard couples say their spouse is their best friend, and I think that is a wonderful expression. But I would say she is something different than a “friend.” The highest peaks and lowest valleys occur in a marriage. It is a commitment that is like no other. Maybe I’m playing with words now, but a marriage requires something fuller and deeper than friendship.
If you live long enough you will lose friends. Since friends don’t grow on trees, that is not easy. It leaves a hole inside. I remember the first time I heard the Luke Bryan song about that: “So I’m gonna sit right here, On the edge of this pier, Watch the sunset disappear, And drink a beer.” A couple friends who have gone on came to mind as I listened, and I had to stop what I was doing.
Why don’t we make this Hug a Friend Day? Each of them is a gift.