friendkeeping as a lifeline…
“Our lives disconnect and reconnect, we move on, and later we may again touch one another, again bounce away. This is the felt shape of a human life, neither simply linear nor wholly disjunctive nor endlessly bifurcating, but rather this bouncey-castle sequence of bumpings-into and tumblings-apart.” ― Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet
I just returned from my godfather’s funeral in Cincinnati, Ohio, last week and I was reminded of this brilliant quote. Amidst the hurly-burly of family activities, I made time to meet up with four close friends, three of whom I’ve known since kindergarten, and one who drove with her husband three hours to attend the visitation. So the idea of maintaining friendships has been on my mind and I remembered Jennifer Klam’s book Friendkeeping, a collection of essays about the close friends who have shaped her. It’s a fitting term for the effort we put into nurturing our closest relationships.
As a child, I made friends easily, though I could be bossy. My mother often recounted my first day of kindergarten, where I confidently left her side and immediately began playing with other children. Kindergarten is also the only time I ever got into trouble at school, after I threw sand into a classmate’s eye and got paddled and didn’t tell my mother about it. She didn’t find out until she ran into my teacher at Kroger.
I can clearly recall my mother, in the early 70s, writing letters to her friends who lived far away, on her wooden lap desk with a fountain pen in her left hand, taking care not to smudge. I learned the importance of cultivating friendships while watching my mother maintain her connections. I still have one of her address books, a small booklet from Cincinnati Bell filled with the names, addresses, and phone numbers of her close friends.
Throughout elementary and high school, I learned to navigate the social scene. Though I wasn't openly gay, I suspect it was common knowledge. When my grandmother passed away in 1981, my parents and I moved to a new house. I persuaded them to buy one in Brittany Heights, next door to one of the most popular kids at school. I reasoned that living close to him would solidify our friendship and protect me from any teasing. To this day, he is one of my closest friends. By my senior year, I was part of a tight-knit group of academically inclined students; I was in the drama club; wrote for our school newspaper; and gave a speech at our graduation ceremony. Today, I’m in a WhatsApp group called “Kaffeeklatsch” with three childhood friends. We connect almost daily, our conversations ebbing and flowing with the rhythm of our lives. I stay in touch with others via email, social media, and the occasional carrier pigeon.
These long-term friendships have been a cornerstone of my life, especially during tough times. When my mom passed away in November 1987, my friends became my lifeline. They were my support system throughout that challenging year. Decades later, these friendships still ground me, reminding me of who I am at my core, even as life changes.
I also made several close friends in college and grad school and in my various jobs and exploits and I work to maintain all those friendships from the different phases of my life. I’m grateful that these connections have stood the test of time and I see friendkeeping as an activity worth prioritizing. As Marcel Proust said, it’s important to be grateful “to those who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom”.
