Fifty years of friendship
Four women, fifty years of friendship
“No problem” said the man we thanked for letting us share his table in the wonderfully old, atmospheric pub in Glastonbury. “To be honest, it was fun listening to your conversation. I was wondering if you all went to school at Hogworts?!”
The scrumpy-fuelled conversation it would have been impossible for him not to overhear, was between four 62-year-old women who first met 50 years ago, and had consisted of us animatedly, at at times hysterically, recalling all the girls and boys we had known, snogged, and occasionally slept with, during our school years together (not at Hogworts, I’m sorry to say), and what we knew of where they were and what they were doing now.
“Wasn’t her father royalty of some kind?” “Didn’t you go out with him? Oh no, that was me. You went out with his best friend. The one with the sticking out ears.” “Did you know she runs a business taking aerial pictures of peoples houses?” “Apparently I only dated the sons of famous comedians.” “She was never on time for a single lesson, it used to drive me bonkers.”
Together again
With one of our gang living in San Fransisco and another between Cornwall and Greece, our long-planned, Covid-delayed weekend away together, was to be only the second time in many years we had managed to be all together in person. When it came to it, sadly Covid put paid to us being the full complement, with one of the group stuck at home with a nasty chest infection triggered by the virus.
Our friendships in school had been in various pairings and groups in the way allegiances typically wax and wane during those formative years, but had gelled over the decades since, and we had managed only a handful of group gatherings over the years.
During the pandemic though, we fell into a comforting routine of having a zoom call together every few weeks, and being able to share our experiences, worries, thoughts and memories quickly became a hugely treasured and supportive time for each of us.
Picking up where we left off
There was never any doubt that we would pick up where we last left off when we were finally able to be together again in person, and once we had released each other from the oh-so-joyous hugs we relished all the more for being denied them for so long, that’s exactly what we did.
We talked. We laughed. We reminisced. We shared sadnesses and concerns and revelled in our many fortunate joys. We reflected on our lives, careers and families. We probed each others thoughts about ageing and finding purpose. We speculated about the world our grandchildren will grow up in, wondering at the changes we’ve seen and those to come. We grappled with issues, explored ideas and dispensed advice.
For two and a half wonderful days we drank deeply and fully from our friendship cup and banked a load more memories that we will be able to dip into in the years to come (and recall for each other when our memories get even worse then they already are!)
The special joys of lifelong friendships
Friendships are the bed-rock of life. But life-long friendships have roots that anchor themselves all the more profoundly in our hearts. They have survived the inevitable tribulations we all go through and the unavoidable times when the busyness of life means we’re not in touch as much as we’d like to be. They come free of judgment and criticism and loaded with laughter and shared experiences and memories.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have such a stalwart, wise, funny, supportive bunch of special friends in my life. I hope you do too. Perhaps you might share this blog and some of the memories it triggers with them. And then arrange to get together at the first possible opportunity.
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A shared experience the four of us would rather not have!
