The Friendship that Time Helped Build

  Society is experiencing a shift in the concept of friendships.  Back in the day, friendships seemed to come in phases.  When you started school you were especially encouraged to “make” friends.  That was the first phase.  You had to be proactive in your search for a friend.  You needed to find someone you liked and they had to like you and then through shared experiences your friendship evolved. The second phase was “having” friends, which indicated you had gone through a process and as a result you were now in possession of a friend which meant you were into enjoying and building upon that friendship.   This procedure was usually built around a single or individualized friendship.  Fast forward to the present and you find through technology we can immediately have hundreds of friends.  We can barely know the person and if we choose they can instantly become our friend.  For many this works very well.  However, for some of us who have undergone years of events with someone, this process can be a challenge and not feel as rewarding.  For over four decades I have been blessed with three friends who continue to be a big part of my life.  They are indeed my lifelong friends.  Since it would be difficult to discuss so many events surrounding three people, I have selected to reminiscence about the oldest friendship of the three.

     This friendship has grown over a number of years: actually, if we were a couple we would have celebrated our Golden Anniversary a few years ago.  I have no exact memory of how or when our friendship began but over the years we have had our share of secrets, tears, joys, pains, heartaches and misunderstandings.  As kids we were encouraged to kiss and make up and as adults we learned to discuss our differences. 

    In the time our friendship began some of the main reasons for success were to live close by, to attend the same school, church or organization and of course someone in your family knew someone in their family.    If you had too many friends you could be considered in a clique or even a gang.  If asked who your best friend was, no one rattled off ten names.  When we were young having a best friend was almost exclusive because of the time needed to nurture the friendship. 

     As kids we spent a lot of time playing outside especially riding bikes and roller skating.  We often wore the same color pedal pushers, (currently known as cropped pants but back then the name spoke for itself); just so that people would think we were sisters. Once when my bike was broken we were riding her bike as doubles and ran into a parked car.  The car was fine but we had lot of scratches and bruises and her bike needed a new front wheel.  We would roller skate until our skates would almost fall apart.  We carried our skate key, a relic that I wish I still had, around our necks and were very careful not to lose it.  We spent hours hiking to the sand dunes and braiding the wild grass that grew in patches around the sand. We called this grass our “girls” because we gave them the most outlandish hairs styles, which included lots of ribbons, barrettes, and rubber bands.  We also grew up during the time we were allowed to go trick or treating alone. We usually wore costumes that were homemade.  We had to be home by a certain time but we could go all over the neighborhood alone; eating whatever goodies we collected along the way.  By the time we got home we were full of cookies, candied apples, donuts, popcorn balls and cupcakes, many of which were homemade.

     There were a few time we would get angry or upset with each other.  Like the time we were visiting my aunt and I ran up the stairs ahead of her only to learn when she came in that I had ran past a $5.00 bill on the steps.  Of course since it was my aunt’s house and technically I had been first up the stairs I thought the money should have been mine or at least we should share.  This was when I learned the lesson of how people can believe they are right, when they’re not, and how money can sometimes ruin friendships.  Thank goodness my fair-minded aunt intervened and made me see the situation clearly and made us kiss and make up.

     As we matured our experiences continued through high school and college.  We went from tea parties, to slumber parties to dances.  We stopped braiding tall grass and started “fixing” our own hair which included making curls by rolling our hair with brown paper bags and Dippity Do. We attended the same high school but she became very ill our junior year and had to be hospitalized a number of times.  During these times I began a monthly newsletter to her to keep her up on the latest happening/gossip at school and in our neighborhood. By our senior year we had found the man of our dreams about ten times. Finally, even though we decided on different colleges, we knew this would be even more fun because we could compare campus life and men.  Oh, the joys of youth.

     Later we each married, got jobs, had children and my family moved out of the state.  Even though I live in California we continue to stay in touch. We certainly have a history together. This is what has made and kept our friendship strong.  True, we have gone through many changes together; that is a part of the beauty of our friendship.  We have grown up and old together.  It wasn’t an instant friendship, no e-mail, Facebook, Twitter or Skype but one that has endured the changes of life. We grew into and continue to be good friends.

The Growing Journey to Womanhood

You grow up best friends for life because your moms are. You don’t even remember when you met, because she’s just been a fabric of your life for as long as you can remember. You are “Best Friends”. And proudly disclaim that any chance you get. We were in separable, Janie (not her real name) and I. We rode bikes and took walks; we had sleep-overs and Halloween parties. You’d still come back even though I’d kick you out of my bed! We giggled and laughed at our developing bodies and our quirky habits. You played with your eyelashes, I played with my hair. Our moms got together, so we would. We lived just a couple miles away, in those days easily and safely walkable.

Then my parents took an opportunity to improve our lives---they thought—when we moved to New Mexico . I was so shattered. My world was coming to an end. You and your mom threw a huge party for me. We stayed up all night. We promised to write—and did, for a while. I was gone for two years, living in New Mexico . My experiences jolted me into a harsh reality: as whites in a predominately Hispanic/Native community, we were the minority. My brother and I had a police escort to school often. I’d get personal obscene phone calls. Someone held my mom hostage at knife point for a day. They broke into our house, letting my bird go and thrashing my room. They killed our dog a different day, leaving her in the street for us to find. I came back for a visit in the middle of this, and already I could tell things were different. I didn’t know the code and the jokes. But I wrote. A phone call was way too expensive.

And after two long years, we finally moved back. On my birthday, traveling across the southwest in the snow... I was thrilled to regain my “normal” life and see all my real friends. When I got home, I called right away I thought we could just reconnect and get back to the way things were. I didn’t really realize you just kept putting me off. One Saturday, I thought I’d make cookies. Our house, which had been my grandmother’s, was just down the back of the hill from yours. So I invited you over. You said you couldn’t go cuz your dad was flying his plane and you had to sit by the CB to check in as he passed over. What the heck did I know? Sounded good. Till I called our other friend Lily (not her real name either). She at least was honest. She said “no thanks, Janie and I are going shopping.” When I asked if I could tag along she just said, “Not really, we’d already made these plans.”

At 14, I was devastated. I cried for days. Part of that devastation was not having that anchor friendship to get me through. We’d had each other to beat bashfulness. Now I was alone and didn’t understand the kids I grew up with. For two years I was adrift. Until one day, being lonely and miserable without a best girlfriend, I came home crying. My mother asked what was wrong. I told her I didn’t have any friends and hated being back. So she asked what I did. I showed her I walked through the halls behind my books, head down. She gave me the best advice ever. She said, “from now on keep your head up, look people in the eye and smile. Say hello first. And see what happens.” I looked up. I smiled. I found new friends. I’ve been close to many women through the years and enjoy their company. I have dedicated my life to work that empowers women. But in all these years, I’ve never had a best friend again.

Blended Family

Eventhough the story is lite in delivery, the topic will hit home to the majority  of Americans.

“Shea” moved out of the apartment she shared with my future husband after he moved me in. My first encounter with her in 1974 was when I sent Dan a letter on black stationary with silver ink telling him when I would be able to accept his invitation to visit. Shea called me at my home in the mid­-west and told me that Dan was her man and they were living together. When he called me, I told him I would not be coming to California and why. Well, eventually, Dan and I met again and this time he would not take no for an answer. Dan flew to my home and moved me to LA with him; we married; and eventually moved to the central valley.

 

In the meantime, Dan’s former girlfriend married his cousin, and they lived in our town. She referred to herself as my husband's children's godmother in order to stay in their lives. When our daughter would act up, she would run to Shea. This brought us together. If you can't beat them, join them.

 

When I became ill and ended up in the hospital, it was this same woman who took care of me (not his family or friends, nor mine since they were 3000 miles away), and arranged for the top African American gastroenterologist to manage my case. I have helped her move on several occasions and we became shopping partners along with two of her friends. She even planned and coordinated our seventh year anniversary vow renewal ceremony.

 

I have had my share of health related challenges. When my body would swell from one of those conditions, Shea would administer the injections; I couldn't stick myself.  Shea shows up at the majority of my husband's family's events and always extends a helping hand. Once when I was stranded in Los Angeles due to car trouble, she showed up and made sure we made it back to home.

 

Our friendship even includes my husband's ex-wife… Now that is another story, but this is a memory of one of my “sister-friends”. Shea has been a wonderful friend, despite our rocky beginning, wouldn't you say?

Just A Taste of "Sweetie".

Sweetie and Me

I don't know when I met my friend Sweetie (the name she gave herself). Through our teens we were always together. I thought we were best friends but it took living to learn we were not. We didn't live in the same neighborhood but we both came from large families and had the same first name, not "Sweetie". That's where the similarity ended because we looked nothing alike. In those days I thought I was chunky and she had the ideal body. I had brown skin, dark brown eyes, and hair that leaned towards kinky. After high school I wore an Afro...it was the sixties and "Black Is Beautiful" was the mantra. On the other hand, she was a little shorter than I was and she was and very fair. My friend had hazel eyes, ample breast, a big “bright” smile and long hair; that is how I used to remember her.

As I look back on that time in my life I realize that Sweetie was a fake and I was too. Actually she was ahead of her time and we didn't know it. By the standards of those days, she had it all. I remember she had a slamming body, an infectious laugh and she knew how to work a wig. This was pre-high school graduation; silky hair was still the image of beauty. I never let on I discovered her secret...I didn't realize at that time how private she was or how many secrets she carried.

I still remember how I discovered that her hair was not naturally all hers. Long before we had weaves, my friend would cut up a wig and sew it into her own hair. She worked really hard to conceal the added parts but periodically I would get a glimpse of her scalp. I knew she had a skin condition because of the flurry of dandruff that was always on the shoulders of her favorite black turtleneck sweaters.

Sweetie never combed her hair but carried a little stiff brush. She would gently run it over the top of her hair. Once while standing over her I could see the top of her head and I saw the tracks. For some reason I didn't say anything or ask any questions because I knew I wasn't supposed to see that. In actuality I was as much a fake as she was because I played into it. It was as if to question or comment on her hair I would be pointing out a deficiency that would change the fantasy I had about the person she was and how much better her life was than mine.

Sweetie had several sisters, all older than we were. That meant, I believed, she had more clothing and a bigger closet than I had. I have one older sister. That sister is seven years older than I, therefore her style was different from mine and we had different taste (we still do). But my friend’s sisters were only one to three years older and they were able to share clothing. This meant she could go weeks without wearing the same thing twice.

She came from a large family as I did. Her mother and her father were married. All of her brothers and sisters had the same parents; that was not the case in my family. It wasn't until years later I learned that Sweetie's dad had another family they just didn't talk about.

I was smarter than my friend; well, I made better grades. We didn't share dreams as I have done with other friends. I guess it was because we didn't really have a lot in common. As I look back now, I understand what made us think we were friends.

After high school I got married. She didn't but had a little girl. The little girl was petite and like her mother, very fair with silky hair and hazel eyes. There came a time when I was unhappy in my marriage and she was unhappy in her relationship so we decided to become roommates. We had a lovely three bedroom apartment in a very nice area. I had my room and bath she had her room and our girls shared the third bedroom and bath.

We lived together for several months; just coming and going; passing one another. I worked for the state and she worked for a very well known manufacturer of home appliances. I worked in administration while she worked doing assembly. On the surface she made quite a bit more money than I did. But once a year her company went on strike or laid-off their workers for unspecified periods of time. My employment however, was consistent. We were “the grasshopper and the ant”. While she was working, her earnings were large and she enjoyed shopping and living large. Sweetie had no savings account to speak of because every year she would go into panic mode about how she was going to cover her expenses.

Once during her lay-off she asked me if I could get her a job at the state. She was tired of the uncertainty. I told her I would do my best. Because of the level of my job and the political climate, it was not difficult to do that for her. I was able to secure a clerical job for her. A friend had a crush on her and she wanted to work for him. He was older and ran a department where he called the shots. Not long after she started her new job, Sweetie informed me that she wanted a job like mine. Well, I had put in my time and legitimately earned my position; volunteered my time and worked whatever hours were needed to get the task completed. I knew I had paid my dues. My friend's view of entitlement came to a head when she insisted, a second time, she wanted a job like mine even though she had no experience. She didn't know (or care) what it took for me to get there. When I told her boss (who happened to be the gentleman with the crush) she wanted a management position, he was outdone. He couldn't believe she was bold enough to say that even if she did want that. It became clear she felt her job was beneath her, and she wouldn’t last long. When the strike was over she went back to her old position and without notice quit her state job and moved out of our apartment leaving me high and dry.

I was shocked to come home and find half of the apartment empty and the rent was due. By this time I knew my future husband. In his style, he immediately took charge, got me set up in a two-bedroom upstairs unit in the same lovely complex. It was less expensive and being on the second floor made me feel more secure. I was living alone with my daughter. He lived and worked in another division in another town. Time has a way of working things out. My husband and I were married for years and living in California before I found out this friend had come on to him. When I spoke to other male friends, I found she tried to seduce every single man that had been in my life whether we dated or not.

After approximately 20 years in California, I returned to my hometown for visit. I learned that Sweetie lived around the corner from my sister. My friend did not know that I was aware of the things she had done. My sister didn't know it either and wanted to surprise us both by inviting her over. When I went to the door, there Sweetie was. She had gained 40 to 50 pounds; she had no hair; her nails were bitten to the quick and she looked pitiful. I was embarrassed for her and my heart hurt for her. I couldn't believe this was the same woman who for years was an image of beauty in my hometown. The curvaceous and envied body was gone, the hair and trendy clothing, gone. She looked like a bag lady. Life had not been kind to her.

Before seeing her that day I didn't think kindly of her; rather, I carried a grudge for how she had taken advantage of my friendship and tried to engage in physical relations with guys she knew I cared about. That was the first time I could actually say, "We reap what we sow", but it didn’t make me feel good. The next to last time I heard about Sweetie, she had lost her dear daughter, was homeless, and an outcast from her family. When I look back, there are things I could have done differently where she was concerned. While the memories I’ve just shared were just a few examples of how she devalued our friendship, I never wished her ill will. I do pray that as we enter the sunset years of our lives she find or have found some happiness and joy.

Update: Since writing this memory, in May, 2010, Sweetie died. She transitioned in June, 2011. The cause of her death was not publicized and none of the classmates I’ve spoken to know the details…I’m on the west coast, she lived in the mid-west. One of my family members sent a copy of her obits with this note,” didn’t you know this lady”? After getting over my shock, I started contacting fellow classmates and was surprised to learn none of them (living in the same town) even knew she had died…so very sad.

While I can’t say I miss her, I do better understand her. I better understand myself. I know the areas where I could have been a better friend to her and her to me. The lessons I’ve learned because of that relationship made me a better friend to all of the women in my life. I have a lot of girlfriends that I can happily say are as close as a sister…I cut my friendship teeth on my friend with the same name as mine.

My Best Friends...are real friendships between women a thing of the past?

In My Day...

That is how many family elders and friends used to begin a dissertation on the youth of the times...I smile now when I hear myself use phrases very similar to those as I observe and report on the generations beneath me.

While I don't check in on multiple topics, I do in the areas that are special to me.  Those areas are friendships and relationships.  They are very close to being the same thing in most cases but this article is focused on female friendships.

Using the standby phrase, 'in my day' there was a group of older women who cautioned my generation to be careful about taking on a female friend especially when one of us was in a serious love or(more like a like) relationship.  Having a good girlfriend was considered reckless because it was, according to the sages of the day, a recipe for heartache. Your  girlfriend could not be trusted to stay true to you if given an opportunity to grab him for themselves.

Oddly enough while I did have one friend who fit that mold, it never worked out in her favor and I didn't cut her out of my life because of her flirtatious personality.  I have written about her in the past because I've operated from a position of self confidence and the belief that a person couldn't be 'taken' from someone who didn't want to leave.  That might have been a little naive on my part at that stage of my life but it worked for me.

Growing up in the Midwest during a time when opportunities for young women of color was very limited.  The majority of us who were good students and friends became teachers or nurses.  I had no desire or as far as I could see skills to be successful in either of those areas.  My favorite classes were entertainment oriented...let me talk or sing and I am in my world!  So music was my first love and drama was my second.  The problem was then, as it is now, talent does not guarantee  success.  It didn't take me long to figure out I needed an 'ace in the hole' if I needed to eat; so off to college I went.  Got through it with very little struggle but didn't take long to figure out the industry moves faster than I could so...while the dream is still alive, I've tweaked my goal list and now, as then, my girlfriends have been on that road with me.

The journey has been and still is challenging and without  my girlfriends' encouragement, I would have given up years ago.  So, as I look back over my life, besides my family, my girlfriends have been my touchstone.  Over the next few articles I will focus on the value of female friendship; how to make friends, how to be a friend and how to KEEP  friends!

My favorite teacher and vocal coach used to say, " Make new friends but keep the the old; one is silver and the other's gold".  While from love, the advice to not have girlfriends was intended to keep me from being hurt,the advice from my teacher was diamond!  

Prepare to hear some of my true girlfriend memories.  I will change their names but my commitment to you is, the memories are mine and they are being shared with you as I remember them.  I encourage you to begin journaling your girlfriend memories;  be honest with yourself every step of the way, ask yourself if you have always been a good friend.  If not, why weren't you?  Think about if you could have a 'do over' what would you do.  Finally, if there is a broken friendship that nags at you because you were not your best self or she was not the friend you needed her to be, how can that relationship be repaired?  It is never too late; even if they are deceased, you can still make your peace with them and with yourself.