I mentioned a couple of essays ago that there was a lot going on in my life over the last year that led to me ignoring this blog. It’s not that I didn’t want to write. I kept writing in my journal. And I kept writing in my head. I even started files for at least half a dozen essays that I’ll finish up in time. I just stopped prioritizing sitting at the computer and typing. Part of what kept me away was deciding to intentionally create more community in our lives. I’ve got a LOT to say about that, but I need to discuss something else first—the importance of keeping valued people in your life even as your circle of friends expands.
In a previous essay I shared my thoughts on relationships. Picture a series of concentric circles with YOU in the center. That innermost circle contains the closest people in your life, often those that have been in your life a long time. This would be your spouse, hopefully some family members, and then a couple of friends. You truly do not have capacity for more than a few people in this innermost circle. The next ring contains people who you talk with regularly or at least have known a while. As you move to rings further out, the relationships become a bit less close, a bit more transactional. The outmost ring contains the person who checks you out at the grocery store and the guy who cut you off on the drive home—short interactions with people you will probably never cross paths with again. It’s important to recognize that people move between rings over time. Some of the people I’ve met over the past year have been steadily moving inward. Others in my life have moved outward. It’s a dynamic process. As they say, people come into your life for a reason, a season, or for life. Today, I want to discuss those lifers.
The first has to be my best friend, Beth. My long time readers are familiar with our antics. Beth and I met in grad school. She joined the research group a year after me (and will forever remind me that she’s younger). We became friends immediately; it took time to become BEST friends. We’ve known each other for (checks notes) 40 years. When a group of us went to Vegas to celebrate Beth’s 50th birthday, I toasted her by saying she has been the most consistent person in my life. Even in those years (decades, actually) when I chose to be distant from my family, Beth was there. We have shared every experience, either directly or from near daily discussions. She is one of the few people who can call me out of the blue and it does not stress me to pick up the call. We’ve been there through all the bad relationships as well as the good ones that led to our marriages. We have our own language, born from the experiences we’ve shared. We crack ourselves up with things no one else would ever find funny. The picture that accompanies this essay is from Beth’s retirement party. And, yes, she is wearing a tiara. Of course.
It’s not that there have never been bumps in the road. I struggled with falling way down the priority list when her son was little (which also corresponded with a time period when I was alone and struggling with THAT). She struggled with a reordering of my life when I met Trish. We’ve fought; we’ve cried. But we’ve always worked it out because walking away from each other just isn’t an option. I simple cannot imagine my life without her in it.
As I struggled through the last year with various life events, our time together was limited. I just didn’t have the energy, even for her. Trish would point out that I often didn’t have the energy for my spouse! We didn’t talk as regularly, although I still talked with her more than anyone else. I turn inward when I’m having a rough time. Beth knows that but it doesn’t mean she likes it! As things in my life have evened out, we’re finding more time together again. It’s not as though we do extraordinary things. We have lunch and run errands and talk about whatever. Most of our discussions involve review of bodily functions (our own and/or our pets’). As much as I enjoy the new people in my life, there’s nothing I need to explain to Beth. I can just be me, warts and all, and know she accepts me without question. This woman even made sure there were only mylar balloons at her son’s Bar Mitzvah party because she knows I have a phobia with latex balloons. Only a dear friend would do that and there is nothing more valuable.
Speaking of 40+ years and people who accept you without question, I am also lucky to have a group of college friends that I’ve gotten closer with again in the last decade. I reconnected with them at our 35th college reunion and, thanks to the pandemic, I feel closer with them than I did in college. I say “thanks to the pandemic” because we had a group trip at the end of February 2020 and started biweekly Zoom calls after that, which continue to this day. As I was heading down to Atlanta for Mother’s Day last month, one of that group was heading up to Scranton to see her Mom. We ended up in the Philly airport at the same time and had around 45 minutes together. I had missed our group trip this past year because my Mom was ill, so it was very nice to see Gwen in person. Again, it was so meaningful to spend time with someone who knows me fully and who, like Beth, has enough dirt on me to keep me from running for public office. (Not that I really harbor designs on that anyway.)
I realize how lucky I am to have people like that in my life who accept me for who I am—all that I am. Look, I am not the most emotionally secure person in the world. I am constantly afraid of being blindsided; of people having opposite opinions of me from that which I perceive; of people being inauthentic; of me making a fool of myself. But with a precious few people, I don’t fear that. I know that if they have a problem with me or something I’ve said or done that they will TELL ME and not just walk away. We’ll be able to work things out and be stronger for it. No matter how many new people come into my life, I will never take that for granted. As Gwen said, “I can’t think of a better way to spend 45 minutes than with someone I’ve known for 45 years.” Me, neither, Gwen. Me, neither.