Friendship is generally undervalued and underappreciated these days. Seldom does anyone write or talk about the value of friendship.
That’s too bad, because a good friend is a jewel. And someone who has been a good friend for 63 years is a rare jewel.
That was brought home to me when my friend David flew out to California from Chicago and visited me for a week earlier this month. We had been classmates in high school and college in the Chicago area, and roommates during our senior year in college.
During our eight years of schooling together we came to share many experiences and to know each other well. We have many common interests, as friends usually do: we’re both English majors and had careers as English teachers; we both enjoy art and jazz; and we both like to laugh a lot.
In many ways we are different, as so often happens in friendship. David is gregarious and blunt; I’m more introverted and circumspect. As in many friendships, the differences create a little spice, which adds to the enjoyment of what is shared in common.
During our week together it seemed as though we hadn’t missed a beat in our friendship. We easily traveled back in time to when we were seniors in college. We shared many memories, as we looked through our high school and college yearbooks.
But there was something different about our friendship in 2024, an awareness of our mortality. In the past several years two close friends of ours in college died, our same age. In the past several years David’s beloved wife Fran died. In the past several years our bodies have also told us that physically we are not the same as we were in our youth.
My physical issue is a minor one, arthritis in my left leg, which often makes me look like I’m 98 rather than 78. For David it has been diabetes, which has limited what his body can do (but not his spirit).
Because of complications from diabetes during what was supposed to be a minor surgery to repair his ankle, David had to have his left foot amputated, but he has since learned, after being confined to a wheelchair for six months, to get along with a prosthetic foot.
He also needs dialysis three times a week. Fortunately, a Los Banos dialysis clinic was able to accommodate him, and I took him there for his treatments, which last three hours, and realized how many other people in Los Banos depend on dialysis to stay alive.
Clearly, David and I are not 21 anymore. But in spirit we are in many ways as we were 56 years ago when we graduated from college. We both laugh at the same jokes and we both enjoy the give and take of needling each other mercilessly.
When we’re out in public, people who observe our constant needling often don’t know what to make of us. They wonder if we’re two grumpy old men, but soon they realize by our laughter we’re just having fun and bringing them along for the wild ride.
It didn’t take long for the needling to start. When I picked up David at the San Jose Airport, the first thing he said was, “John, you look old,” to which I replied, “You ain’t so young yourself, David.”
David hadn’t been out to northern California before, so he was interested in seeing the sights. That meant leaving Los Banos on days when he wasn’t having dialysis and driving to the Monterey Peninsula and to San Francisco, both of which he thoroughly enjoyed.
As a result, we spent a lot of time in the car together, and the conversation seldom lagged, not just sharing memories but catching up on the last six decades.
Sometimes the conversation was lighthearted, sometimes serious. We both had seen a wife die from cancer. And we both had many twists and turns in our careers in education. There was a lot to talk about, and we did.
Perhaps some of you reading this are thinking about a longtime friend of yours and maybe you’re also taking the time to reflect on the value of that friendship.
“When I think about the pains and joys of my life,” Henri Nouwen wrote, “they have little to do with success, money, career, country or church, but everything to do with friendship.”
Keeping a friendship alive and thriving is not easy. “Friendships,” Nouwen added, “require trust, patience, attentiveness, courage, repentance, forgiveness, celebration and most of all faithfulness.”
Husbands and wives who consider themselves their best friends understand what Nouwen is saying, as do any two people who’ve had a longstanding friendship.
I’m also guessing that many reading this column, when recalling a longtime friend, realize that you haven’t connected with that friend for a while. If that’s the case, I encourage you to reach out soon and reconnect.
Friendship needs to be valued, cherished and nourished. My time with David reinforced that.
John Spevak’s email is john.spevak@gmail.com.
