Lucy and Ethel
Laverne and Shirley
Oprah and Gayle
Kim and ?
I’ve been very lucky to have good friends my whole life. To this day, I have kind, sincere friends who remember my birthday, help watch my kids, who bring over meals when I’m sick and invite me to special events like weddings and baby showers. However, I don’t have one best friend. I can’t think of one woman I’ve known for 40 years who I talk to daily and knows all my secrets.
Is that okay? Am I missing out on something?
In The Best of Friends, authors Sara James and Ginger Mauney share a memoir of their life long friendship. Growing up in Richmond, Virginia during the 1960’s and 70’s, they met during middle school and bonded late one night as they shared secrets during a sleep over party. Years later, Sara becomes a news reporter for several television networks and lands her dream job in New York City Africa . Despite long distances and personality differences, Sara and Ginger preserve their friendship through college, careers, marriages, and having children.
While the book centers on Sara and Ginger’s personal lives, woven through the narrative are commentaries on friendship--quotes like:
“old friends become best friends because you trust them. Because they know who you were as well as who you are, but they don’t tell”
How many years do you have to know someone before they qualify as an old friend? Five, ten, twenty? Do you have to move away, go through several years with no communication, and reunite Hollywood drama-style by showing up unannounced on their doorstep?
Siblings aside, my oldest friend is Justyn. We met in 9th grade, played field hockey in high school, and attended Junior Prom where both of our dates, several years later, revealed they were gay. We attended the same college and faced some eerily similar challenges in our 20’s and 30’s. Justyn has helped me through some tough times. We live in different states, but find a way to see each other at least once a year. Like Sara and Ginger, we’ve shared some secrets and I love her like a sister.
I miss other good friends who have passed through periods of my life. I fantasize about spontaneously flying across the country to have lunch with them and catch up. When you get together with old friends, you don’t have to begin with all the introductory questions a new friendship requires. You’ve already established that you like each other. You can start up where you left off. There’s great comfort in that.
While reading The Best of Friends, I admit to a momentary, sheepish thought:
“Where’s MY best friend?”
Should I be seeking for a best friend? Is she out there, but we just haven’t found each other yet? Am I not maintaining old friendships that could have turned out like Sara and Ginger? Does it even matter?
Not one bit.
That kind of complaint, for me, is like lamenting over blond eyelashes, dwelling on the difficulties of having pasty-white, sunburn-prone skin, or wishing I had been raised multi-lingual. What a short-sighted waste of time. For all I know, I will meet my best friend at the Golden Acres Home for Seniors when I’m 89. She’ll be the wrinkly, silver-wigged lady one wheelchair over in the bingo room who loves to discuss good books.
What most inspired me from The Best of Friends was the efforts made to maintain a friendship. Sara and Ginger lived on two separate continents and still managed to stay close. Their childhood memories were more than passing thoughts. They acted on them.
That is the skill I want to develop: remembering old friends and doing something to keep the connection alive. To all my old friends, I would like to say:
I often think about you and smile. You are missed. God be with you ‘til we meet again.
I, too, would be hard-pressed to name someone as my best girl friend. And that's how it's been my whole life. Thanks for helping me see that it's, most likely, not a make-or-break happiness issue in my life.
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