MEREDITH’S MUSINGS: FRIEND SHIFTS

Article by Meredith McKinnie

My dad Larry had a lot of sayings while we were growing up. He would get low, down level with our faces to emphasize the importance of the words to follow. I’ve listened to more of them than I can remember, but the ones that resonate are those whose truth has materialized in my life. One such Larry-ism was about friendship. He would hold up his right hand with his stubby little digits and say “When you get old, you’ll be able to count your true friends on one hand.” I would chuckle. I didn’t have a cell phone with hundreds of contacts then, but I had loads of friends. Clearly Dad just wasn’t very popular, I thought.

Approaching forty, I’m beginning to understand what he meant. I do have loads of contacts, people whose path I cross frequently, those that would probably answer my call if I needed help. But true friends, the kind that let us expose the ugly parts of ourselves, are hard to come by. A colleague who has lived in this area mentioned this to me the other day. She found making friends in adulthood difficult. She missed how easy it was as a child. My closest friendships evolved in childhood, and though many of those relationships fell away as our lives changed, two stayed close. We didn’t experience college or parenthood at the same time, but we knew each other well enough and counted each other as emotional bases. We knew each other before we became who we are.

As life inevitably ebbs and flows, relationships adapt or fade away. Keeping people close takes effort. Sometimes when life kicks me to the ground, I’m thankful because it reminds me to reach for those emotional cornerstones, to call those friends who listen for the sake of listening. I find venting therapeutic, and I only trust a few people with the truth. Friending without filters takes time and patience. I take solace in knowing I have rocks and that I can be a rock for them when the time comes. I hope they feel that way about me. There is no greater comfort than hitting the End Call button feeling better than when you dialed. Husband has learned to pick up on my emotional cues. If I take a call back to the bedroom, I need to unload some emotional baggage, and I need to talk to my friends, those on this ride from the beginning.

When friendships span multiple decades, the highs and lows start to blur. You just start associating certain people with being around for all of it, as if they always existed. Conversations don’t begin with disclaimers. Chats are not interrupted with apologies or explanations, as if the conversation never stopped. I value that more than I can convey in words. As I have relied on these friendships heavily in the last few years, I’ve started to reconsider the type of friend that I am. Do they feel like they can lean on me? Am I providing enough support? Do I listen as much as I talk?

During quarantine, most of my interactions occurred via telephone, and to some extent have continued because having small children means little free time away from the house. I’m trying to listen more for the sake of listening, not always listening to have the perfect answer. They need to vent too. And sometimes my role is to just give them space to exhale. It goes against my nature as I want to play mediator and resolve issues as quickly as they arise. I’m constantly playing devil’s advocate, lessening the severity of a situation, bringing a problem back down to earth. To not interrupt, I sometimes bite my lower lip, giving my friends who speak slower time to say it all. Silence is not the enemy; often it’s a welcome deep breath.

The last year has forced me to reevaluate everything, as we all saw how fragile life is, how much we took for granted, and particularly the relationships so vital to our emotional well-being. If I’ve learned anything, it is to dig in even deeper, invest in those relationships that make life worth living. In a fast-paced world where time evaporates so quickly, I am focused on those relationships I cherish, leaving adequate room for them to thrive and grow. It’s as important for me to be the rock for my close friends and give them the room to stretch out for a minute and just breathe.