Friends.  Nothing like ‘em.
 

 I’ve been fortunate to have many good friends during my life, and even more fortunate to keep them.  It is easy to let go of friends---life’s journeys have a way of taking people in different directions.

Two really good friends---or at least I thought they were--- moved away.  Now, these are two totally isolated incidences---these two people don’t even know each other, but the circumstances are identical.  In each case as I was saying good-bye to my friend and saying things such as “let’s stay in touch” and “we’ll get together when we pass through” and all the other usual things people say in this circumstance, the departing person told me:  “Oh, I don’t do that.  When I leave, I leave.  I don’t keep my old friends.”

What!!!!????

I remember being amazed.  And, in both cases, they kept their promises.  One of those situations was triply painful in that one of the guys’ kids was one of my daughter’s best friends---they were just little kids then.  She was so sad that her playmate was leaving and even sadder when she would write letters that never were answered and make phone calls that were never returned. 

At some point I used to think about tests of friendships.  I no longer do that.  They are what they are.  I’ve let a few slip away over the years that I shouldn’t have let slip away—but of course, that song is always a duet, not a solo. But, anyway---I came up with this mental test that is really silly to impose at all, since friendships should never be tested.

It went like this:  If a friend called me from some very distant place and said, “I’m in trouble.  I need you.  Come quickly,” would I do it, no matter the inconvenience or cost?

And, the corollary:  Would he or she do the same if I called?

I gave up on this test one day when I was very, very ill and sitting on my front porch with three of my oldest friends in life, Rooster Croft, John L and Turk Mudge.  We were just visiting and they were helping me keep my mind off how crummy I felt. Turk went into the house to use the facility.

“Why did Turk come back to Michigan from California so soon?” I asked.  “He was just here a few months ago.”

There was this long silence, and John L said quietly---he always talks quietly—“To see a sick friend.”

Holy cats!

Well, as they say, “There is no friend like an old friend.”  Is that true?  Some old saws just don’t cut wood. Here’s another one:  “A man who has as many good friends as he has fingers on one hand should count his blessings.”

How sad!  Anyone who believes that is applying too many dumb tests to the term “friendship.” And furthermore, that person is not working hard enough at hanging onto the friends made on life’s journey.

In grade school I learned a mnemonic for spelling the word “friend.”  One just has to remember that the “end” of “friend” is “end.” 

It is a good way to remember how to spell the word, but it’s a lousy philosophy. 

                            © by Jim Whitehouse

                                                    Index