Yesterday, the group chat was abuzz about the passing of a friend. I knew this person the way we seem to know most people these days – we were friends on Facebook. Aside from the annual birthday wishes, we hadn’t talked or interacted in over a decade. He went to high school with my ex-wife and also with most of the people on the group chat. One of his kids went to school with my daughter. Before he moved away and before I moved away and before the divorces and separations and distances that evolved, we went to the same 4th of July picnics, the same bar, and some of the same house parties. That was a long time ago.
I was sad to hear of his passing. I was sad for his family and the void they now face. Though not knowing him terribly well made it difficult to spend much time in that space… made it difficult to not use his death as a reflecting point on my own mortality and, conversely, my own vitality. Having someone close to me in age prematurely pass away elicited reflections on friendship, relationships, purpose, and legacy. It’s not that I spent much time thinking that I could be next or I could go tomorrow – though both are true – it’s that I spent my time wondering what, if any of it, matters. Why do we matter, and to whom? Selfishly, I spent my time asking who’s life is better because of my presence, whose presence makes my life better, with whom am I making memories, how am I making use of the time I have?
I don’t always like the answers I get when I reflect on these topics. Often, such reflection lays bare what I perceive to be the thinner spots of my life – mainly a dearth of deep, close, or long-held connections. Often, it invites comparisons with some imagined or societal ideal that resembles a Folgers or Vrbo or Beer commercial (nuclear family, neighborhood friends, family vacations, long-time friends, backyard barbecues). Often, such reflections force to me to consider my role/shortcomings in the relationships I’ve kept or let fade.
Admittedly, without geographic proximity, I’m not great at maintaining friendships. Even some of my best friends became once-a-year friends or text every few weeks/months friends. When I compare this to how I see other people interact with their friends (the beer commercial version of friendship), I begin to think I should do better or that maybe I have a wonky understanding of friendships or life or how to do any of this. For as long as I can remember, this is how it’s been with me. This is what you get with me.
I tend to feel the same way about family. Were I grading us, I’d give my family ties a C+ or a B-. We just weren’t those people. When we’re together, we enjoy each other’s company. We love each other and care about each other. But that love and care never manifested into spending a lot of time together as adults or into maintaining frequent communication. When geography wasn’t an issue (meaning before I moved away), we’d see each other a few times a year. We’ve never been the talk to each other every day type of family. I catch up with my mom once a week. My dad is more hit or miss and we mostly communicate by text. My brother and I might text a few times a year. My daughter and I text every few weeks – though sometimes it’s months. I don’t know if any of this is normal or not, but I often feel like our needle hovers over the slightly less-normal side of the family relationship dial. If I had to attribute a root cause to this dynamic, I’d say it was the fact that my parents moved away from their respective friends and families at a young age and my father never had much use for other people – often preferring the solitude of his books to friends.
As I’ve tried to give closer consideration to how we (or I) define friendships, I’ve been asking myself why geography and frequency seem to tip the scales the way they do. Why I only seem to be able to focus on the people in front of me? Could it have something to do with intimacy and how close we allow ourselves to get to others? Or how visible we make ourselves to others? An out of sight, out of mind sort of thing? Since this friend’s passing, I’ve been asking myself what defines a friendship and what do we want or need from our friendships. Obviously, there is no one definition. Obviously, friendships exist on a continuum of depths and reciprocities. They serve different functions at different times of our lives – which, when phrased that way, feels entirely too utilitarian.
This type of contemplation usually brings me to a point where I tell myself that I’m overthinking things… usually brings me to a point where I remind myself that there is no right or wrong way to do this and to enjoy the ride. But more than anything, this type of contemplation leaves me wondering about the hierarchy I’ve followed for much of my life – a hierarchy in which I’ve put the greatest value on the pair-bond relationships that were my primary partnerships: engagements, marriage, and long-term relationships. Those people were always my best friends, my closest friends, the friends for whom other friends were dropped. This, I know, is not unusual. Most people consider their primary partner to be their best friend, their truest confidante. What I’m left wondering is what friendship looks like in the absence of that pair-bond or why friendships tend to fade in the presence of those deeper commitments. I can’t rule out that as I rebelled against the idea of substituting books for friendships, I instead substituted romantic relationships for friendships. I also can’t rule out that I simply have limited capacity for where I can place my attention: a myriad of loose connections, a few deep connections, a mixture of both – but not too many?
These past two days, I’ve covered more ground in my thinking than I could ever convey on the page. In the process, I’ve walked through the unkempt fields of other friendships, neglected friendships, and I’ve revisited the memories of other losses. I’ve been tempted to reach out to friends who aren’t currently in my orbit. I’ve been tempted to chat up a few current friends. I’ve even been tempted to renew my efforts at finding a new best friend type of person. I’ve come to no conclusions. I’ve found no answers nor resolutions, I can only say, I’ve felt a renewed sense of gratitude for the many people I’ve had the pleasure to call friends, regardless of degree, depth, or duration.