My Dad’s friend of over eighty years, Daphne, died recently, she was eighty eight. She had lived next door-but-one to him in a little village near Herne Bay when they were children during the 1930/40s. She then married a chap called John, also from the same little village. They all went to the tiny village school together. I took Dad to Daphne’s funeral and it was so moving to hear about how they had played in the garden of my grandparent’s little rented cottage all of those decades ago . It isn’t easy to imagine our own parents as children.

My daughter is twenty and, ever since she started nursery school, there has always been some friendship drama or another. Even now they are adults it still goes on although my daughter is the kindest soul you could wish to meet. There are two girls in particular that I would place under the fremeny category. They are real love/hate, competitive relationships. Girls can be incredibly unkind and hurtful to each other as can grown women. You do have to wonder where some people learn to be so nasty. Neither of my sons have ever had similar issues with their friends or perhaps it’s just that they are less willing to talk about their feelings.

I am fortunate enough to have at least half a dozen good friends but life changes over the years and this can impact even the most longstanding friendships. My friend Carrie and I met at a Sunday school party. I was dressed as a 1920s flapper and she was in Welsh national dress, I don’t remember why as she is from Essex! We were eleven. We went to secondary school together and always lived in the same town until 2001 when I moved to Kent. A few years later she moved to the Isle of Wight, a beautiful place but it is an effort to visit. Carrie and I used to take our children to playgroup together, stop at the bakers on the way back to my house where we would buy the most delicious belgium buns on the planet. Happy days! Even when I moved we would speak every day. Now it’s sometimes once a month. We both have part time jobs, aging parents and Carrie is now a very hands-on grandmother. She is busier than ever. I did go and visit her last summer and we had a lovely time just walking along the beach front chatting. If you know someone really well it is easy to pick up where you left off.

A former friend, Angela, was someone I met at work before I was married. We kept in touch and met up when we had our sons at around the same time but I always felt she was slightly judgemental. She claimed her son had never watched television or had eaten anything containing sugar. Oddly, her son knew the names of all the Teletubbies so something was a bit suspect. My oldest son spent a lot of time in hospital over many years and it was a difficult time in my life, especially when I had two, much younger children. Instead of being supportive I remember her ringing and huffing when I explained that my boy was ill again. I realised it was actually boring to her. She went on to tell me about her fabulous holiday in Jamaica and I never heard from her again. I looked her up recently and she is now a person-centred counsellor. I hope she is a better listener to her clients than to her friends.

I think the rules for being a good friend are simple, be genuinely interested in the other person, don’t cancel plans without good reason, only offer your opinion if asked, don’t be insensitive when things are going well for you but they are having a hard time, never criticise their husband or children and buy them a thoughtful gift on their birthday. Easy!

Thank you for reading,

Samantha

Cover Photo by Walter Randlehoff on Unsplash