Is there an art to making friends?

It hardly seems possible, but I am entering the one-year mark of my retirement.  During this year I have finally joined some clubs that piqued my interest, about which I was feeling pretty good and proud of myself.  Then I realized, hmmm, although I had committed and was actively participating I wasn’t you know, really committed to the people. I basically kept them at arm’s length.

With this on my mind, I was sitting at the pool with my 9-year-old granddaughter, who had recently been awarded a good citizen award at her school, which we were discussing.  And as I told her how proud of her I was, the conversation took a turn, as it is want to do with 9-year-old girls, and she began talking quite animatedly about her girlfriends. It made me smile as I could tell how deeply she felt about her friends.  During this tête-à-tête I asked her, “What made you pick them as a friend?”  She paused and said very matter of factly, I might add, “Because they are funny, they make me laugh, they are nice to people and basically we have things in common.  You hang out with them, and then if you like them, well, then you are friends.”  She told me all this with the attitude only a 9-year-old can have and with that incredulous look that really said, what do you think Gram!

Hmm, I thought; the friends I have are friends I have made over the years from my career, people with whom I had shared work stress, success, and a common interest.  I saw and spent time with them every day of my life.  Then I thought well, my best friends are really my husband and my sister. 

Interesting, the definition of a friend is:  a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.  According to the definition of a friend I guess it would exclude my BFF hubby and my sis.  So I texted my sister and “friend” (no matter what the definition says, she is always truthful and I know things come from a place of love) and I said, “I am trying to figure out why I have been keeping people I meet at arm’s length, for some reason I don’t really want to get involved with them.”

I wondered if it was an age difference thing; most of the people here are from a different generation than I am; they are well, my parent’s age.  I am forever making them lift up an eyebrow with some of my ideas and comments. They don’t really seem to like or embrace change. I am from a generation that loves change.  As I am talking to them I must admit I do find them fascinating, as they lived through wars and a depression, and it’s great to hear these stories. How the women went to work during the war as it was their patriotic duty, how they were told by their government that they would leave the workforce after the war and stay at home while their husbands made the money to support the family.  Say What!!!!

Having grown up a Boomer, and being from the hippie generation and women’s lib, you can see the gap here, I’m thinking. <Grin> this is one of the key reasons I gave to myself for not making friends.  But then I tell myself, nice try, there are those moving into the community who are from my generation.

So I continued to do as I always do, observed those around me and how they interact with each other.  While at a club meeting, I was deep into a text during the break, from an old work friend who was letting me know about a work acquaintance who had recently passed away. One of the older club members (meaning not of my generation) <Grin> said, “Sit up, you’re getting a crick in your neck.”  Boy, talk about feeling like your mother is talking to you! Well she got my attention, ha ha.  I smiled and thought to myself, I think that was her way of hinting that I should be up getting coffee and talking to live people.  Their generation seems to feel it’s their duty to teach us how to behave, again why I keep them at arm’s length.

Where would we be without friends? The people who pick you up when you need lifting? We all come from homes and lives that are far from perfect, so you end up almost parent and sibling to your friends, in a sense your own chosen family. In my heart and mind I know there is nothing like a really loyal, dependable good friend. True friends are really a blessing, and that which we take the least care to acquire.

So I’m wondering what my problem is, I think that friendship is a responsibility, never an opportunity? Maybe that’s it, I don’t want the responsibility, or maybe its selfishness. I know and have heard all the clichés - a friend is someone who brings out the best in you, a friend freely advises justly, assists readily, adventures boldly, takes all patiently, defends you courageously, and continues being a friend unchangeably.  But then the little nagging voice inside my head says isn’t it true there is a dark self-interest behind every friendship; there is no friendship without self-interest? 

But the good stuff rattling around in my head are the words of George Washington, “Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”  This sounds a tad like what my little 9-year-old granddaughter said to me, “Hang out with them, and see if you like them, and what they are all about!”  Out of the mouths of babes!

So, after much back and forth texting with my sister, and as she said, “What have you got to lose?”  I’ve decided that after all there are really no strangers, just friends you have yet to meet.  So I shall end this blog with my final thoughts on this subject, to have a friend you have to be a friend.  

I thank you again for taking this retirement journey with me, or as I refer to it, “my longest coffee break."  I'm just sayin’…