By Christine Swan

Walking with friends is good for the soul

I am finding that I am becoming increasingly reflective as I age. The recent loss of my daughter has tested the strength and fortitude of all of my relationships. This has caused me to ponder on the true meaning of friendship.

You can choose your friends but not your family. It is perfectly possible to be both of course, however, families often have expectations attached to relationships that friendships usually do not. For example, my father would have liked me to have trained to become a doctor but when I realised that there was no way on Earth that I would obtain the required entry grades, the double disappointment became evident. I was hopeless when I first learned to drive aged seventeen. I really wanted to act but my parents advised me to get a “proper” job. Teaching was deemed a suitable occupation but I did not achieve a first-class honours degree, so continued my run of disappointments.  From clothing, music and partner choices, I continued to fail to meet expectations. Even as recently as two years ago when, to celebrate the end of the pandemic, I had my hair dyed pink, my 95-year-old mother disapproved saying: “Well, as long as YOU like it but I’m glad that I don’t have to go round with my hair like that,” and, later, after come contemplation: “I still don’t like your hair.”

I have collected friends from every phase of my life. Some have faded out but a number have remained strong and true through the years. It doesn’t matter that we don’t see one another regularly but we do keep in touch. Social media can be a troublesome place but it is a great place for checking in sharing what you are up to. I also use it to arrange meet ups, trips out and to compliment my friends on their various triumphs and achievements. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything, is a good motto to stick by, but, with friends, this is easy, because we care about how they feel. Telling a friend that we like their hair, clothes, kitchen, or garden, performs one act – it makes them feel good. Friends can raise your mood and have a positive impact on your well-being and the good news is, it’s mutual.

On our way to St Tropez. We had an amazing holiday, such happy times.

When bad things happen, friends are there for you. They cook dinner and leave it on your doorstep with a note: “Thinking of you.” Friends check in on you: “I’m just making sure you are OK and wondered if you’d like some company.” I cannot begin to express how much I needed my friends in the dark early days after my recent loss, and they stepped up marvellously. I am now starting to rely less and give more. I am not the only person to have had a bad time of it recently and, if anything, it has made me more perceptive to the pain of others. I have bought flowers, bottles of wine and other little gifts for my friends to say thank you, but a hug is priceless beyond measure. I love and value my friends and now tell them, certainly more than I did. Sometimes we share tears – our loss is theirs too. They are in lockstep with our pain, and we with theirs. There is joy too and many shared, happy memories, Hold fast to the good times. May they be plentiful and long-remembered because life really is nothing without friendship.

Friends of all shapes, sizes and species

Addendum: I first wrote this post nearly two months ago. I’ve been very wrapped up in my work which has proved a happy distraction for me. I had almost forgotten that I had half-written this post on my mobile phone during my commute. However, a recent friend’s pain has brought it back to the forefront. I read it again and remembered what I was thinking at the time and how I wanted to express my deep appreciation of everyone who put my well-being first. This week, I have pretty much the whole week booked seeing friends. After the rain, the sun – after the tears, it’s OK to smile.