Silver and Gold

by Mary K. Williams

Make new friends
And keep the old
One is Silver
And the other’s Gold.

This refrain from my Girl Scout days has been streaming through my head recently, while thinking about both my past and my future. Changes are coming, whether by design or default, and I am trying to make sense of it all. My past I can handle, but it’s that darned unknown that brings a nice little bit of angst. And I find that this transitory state happens to correspond with the calendar.

There’s no way around it – September signals the most salient evidence of change. Although the weather does not change dramatically from August 31st to September 1st – the emotional climate usually does. Like starting school - whether it’s our children or just our own memories from those days – this can consume our energies at this time of year. And we grieve – just a little – for the passing of summer, in all its sandy, golden glory.

Silver and gold.

But still, September heralds promise. What cute new boy or girl will be in my class? Perhaps I’ll start my Christmas shopping now, for a change. Once the heat dies down, I’ll redecorate my living room. And then it’s time to go apple picking, and have everyone over to celebrate the harvest!

I suppose all the navel gazing about life and friendship spawned from my recent efforts to reconnect with some important friends in my life. In the last six months give or take, I’ve felt an uncomfortable mix of depression and uneasiness and I needed my girlfriends. The reasons for the malaise are varied and not that unique, watching one child graduate high school, worries about finances, careers (mine and my husband’s) – a smorgasbord of things that typically come from my demographic. Nothing horrible, but enough to put me in the sad position of both hostess and guest at my own pity party.

And boy did I want company. What good is a bitchfest if there’s no one to “fest” with? Now, my husband is pretty darn supportive, and he’s almost finished his training at the “Listening to Women” Institute. But still, it wasn’t enough. So, I started reaching out to the friends I’d counted on in the past. What I didn’t realize is that they were in the midst of their own trials.

Damn.

OK, if they couldn’t help me, perhaps I could help them? I continued to email or call, but only once in a while as to not be intrusive. Still nothing. But when we decided to have a party for my son’s graduation, most of my close friends were able to be there. Although we couldn’t indulge in an all night slumber party and or even have any deep conversations – it was a wonderful feeling to know that I was being shored up and supported during this happy but emotionally anxious time.

And that’s the thing, really. Sometimes, as we go through tumult and transition all we really need are a few smiling faces of genuine friends. No one can fight your fight for you, but they can be the Mickey Goldmill to your Rocky Balboa. My own personal “Mickey”, has been my friend Lynn. We met when we were very young; tiny, really. A friendship that formed with all the bluntness and naiveté of children has continued and strengthened for the last 45 years. And though we haven’t been part of each other’s lives as intimately as in childhood, we have been there for the weddings, births, and sadly – the deaths.

Although Lynn was there for my sister’s and father’s funerals, I felt the strongest, even primal need for her presence when my mother died in 2002 . To describe the ache to have her nearby is difficult. But another good friend understood perfectly. When I was making all the typical phone calls, Mary-Margaret asked in her always sincere way if there was anything she could do for me – and I blurted out, “I really need to get a hold of Lynn.” Although I knew it then, today I’m even more grateful for the fluidity of friendship that allowed one good friend to comprehend how important a bond is with another. I see it as a silver lining in any dark time.

Silver and gold.