Forever Friends

It used to really hurt me that I lost the friendship of people I considered lifelong friends.  There is the one who accused me of “attacking” her when I expressed my deep concern at her anorexic condition and completely cut me out of her life; then the one who dropped me because I had to say I can no longer care for her cats and they would need to be placed elsewhere.  An aunt of mine, one of the people I was closest to on the planet, stopped talking to me two years ago because I commented that I was sad as a child I was prevented from knowing my father’s family (see my post What Price Those Words).   

The loss of these individuals in my life has been a great lesson for me, but one that evolved from “Maybe I shouldn’t have said or done something” to “It’s their loss, not mine.”  Not that I believe my friendship is so special that the loss of it is so great; rather I feel sorry that the bitterness they carry around with them prevents them from experiencing what I have with so many true friends: an unconditional (See Breakable Unbreakable Bonds), lifelong connection that means the world to me.

I thought of this as I sat at the kitchen table Wednesday catching up with Cyndi, my college-day friend.  This visit came after a nine-year gap.  You know how it is, we move on with our lives, which often take us to different places.  I left California for Las Vegas; Cyndi to central California.  We lose touch for a while but when we reconnect we fall right back into a great place of friendship.    When we are together, it is as if we are those young, idealistic nineteen-year-olds again; like to no time had passed at all between us.  It is the most special, wonderful thing to be able to sit across from a friend whom I’ve known since before our lives were truly started.  We are both in the menopause years, yet, we recalled our lives before it all unfolded. 

August 1979, Santa Monica, CA

My friend Cyndi married the most interesting and loving man, twenty-plus years her senior.  His name is John and he and I happen to share the same birthday.  (On a side note, John also happens to be the subject of a book, the bestselling docu-novel written by Gay Talese called, Thy Neighbor’s Wife). 

John, Cyndi, and Sienna at home

Being with Cyndi reminds me of two things: that a true friend never abandons another and that love and friendship, if it is real, is unconditional and everlasting. 

Yes, it hurt to lose those that felt my friendship wasn’t worth repairing after a perceived slight, but I am so loved by others that it makes up for it.