As I approach 40, it seems like I now have more friends from childhood than I do from my 20s. Some of us barely kept in touch for all or part of the past two decades and suddenly we’re popping back into each other’s lives.
Some of us drifted apart. Careers and kids shifted their priorities away from friendships. Other times it was more dramatic. Some grudges expire. Some situations look different with the distance afforded by time. Life is complicated.
I wonder about the lives of people who cut friends off after they feel betrayed or let down. My closest relationships are all the most complicated ones. The ones that have endured and been rekindled. Whatever ties us together is far stronger than being fun to hang out with or mere convenience.
Maybe they won’t always be there in the ways I need them when I need them, sure. I’ve certainly done my share of letting people down and doing the wrong thing. What we have to give and what others need simply doesn’t always align. The friends who stick around accept me as I am, imperfectly.
After getting together with a friend for the first time after a seven year silence, I came across an article on how letting friendships lie fallow doesn’t have to be a bad thing.
My dad married his high school sweetheart two weeks ago. There were a lot of last-minute pandemic related changes to the plan, naturally. The wedding turned into a block party, with neighbors carrying over chairs and decorations and running to the store for whatever might be needed. It was a beautiful demonstration of just how much weddings are a promise not just for the couple to take care of each other, but for the whole community to be part of that.
I’ve known many of the wedding guests for my whole life. I know who wasn’t there. I know who was out of the picture for years before coming back into our lives. I know who things are a little complicated with right now. None of it mattered the day of the wedding. What mattered was that we had a community there, celebrating together.
During the first lockdown there was a flurry of texts, emails, and phone calls from people I haven’t spoken to in a long time. This summer was my 20th high school reunion, accompanied by the re-friending of people who had un-friended me on social media. I ran into people at weddings and during visits to places I once called home. These are moments of amnesty that make it easy to break the silence.
We don’t need to wait for an excuse, though. We can reach out whenever. Sometimes there’s no response. Sometimes we pick up where we left off. Sometimes we tiptoe back into a new sort of relationship.
This quote from an old article came across my feed twice this week:
“If the health-care system were to break off from the United States and become its own economy, it would be the fifth-largest in the world.”
The ACL is collecting feedback on the 2022 US National Strategy to Support Family Caregivers.