I got an invitation the other day from a woman who is supposed to be my friend, yet I don’t really consider her on that level. Not that she isn’t really nice. She is. Along with that she is intelligent, attractive and charming. What’s missing? Well, I guess the bottom line is that we have nothing in common. No, that isn’t it. We do have some things in common: our social status, our ethnicity, our political views, we are approximately the same age and even our kids are about the same age.
But then our different life style and values trump the rest. I hate to shop; she loves to shop. I wear minimal jewelry; she is loaded up. I dress casually; she is a fashion plate, even at a barbeque. I stay out of my adult kids lives as best I can; she is a major player in her kids affairs. I spend time being active in sports; she goes to luncheons. She is nice though. Why can’t I elevate her to being my friend?
I resolved that two people really had to had some thing in common, even if it is only one thing. In my case I have a close friend who I grew up with, a close friend who I went to school with, a close friend with whom I shared the ups and owns of raising children. I have friends with whom I play tennis, with whom I travel, with whom I do my writing, and with whom I feel accepted, strengths and weaknesses combined. With each we have something in common. My God, what would I do without my friends.
