How Friends Sustain Us

November 25, 2017 Pat Moriarty

I would rather walk with a friend in the dark than alone in the light. ~ Helen Keller

How many walks? How many friends? I wonder. This past week I’ve had a tutorial on friendship.

I watched in awe as two hundred friends gathered for my cousin Amy’s funeral as they came to give comfort to a grieving family. It was a moving scene, reminding me that true friends are with us through thick and thin.
I witnessed the Seattle Prep grads circling around a beloved classmate as he underwent risky heart surgery, the bonds of friendship between the class and Dan as strong as ever, even after 50 years.
Finally, we remembered this week the assassination of John F. Kennedy, rekindling the feelings of attachment many of us have toward our fallen President, someone we regard as an old, inspirational friend.

When did I first experience a friendship attachment? Here’s what I remember.

It happened one spring afternoon at John Hay grade school in 1954 where I was a five-year-old kindergartner. I was seated at the art table waiting for my friend Maureen to take her seat next to me. Maureen was my drawing partner and I was excited because we were to start a new project, something about coloring Easter eggs and Easter bunnies. Maureen could draw effortlessly, always able to keep the colors within the lines, a task way beyond me. At five, I was a bit of an anxious, worried soul. I kept mostly silent but when I did speak, I had a stammer. Maureen was outgoing and she put me at ease; around her I never stammered. You might say she was my first real friend.

Well, Maureen never arrived. I waited and waited until finally, in a fit of frustration, I went to Mrs. Carlson, my kindergarten teacher, and asked her what happened to Maureen. She then broke the sad news to me that Maureen had moved away and wouldn’t be returning.

I was a very unhappy five-year-old boy.

I stood in silence and then glumly shuffled back to my empty table. Mrs. Carlson could see I was very, very sad. She came over to me, put her hand on my shoulder, and stooped down so she could look at me at eye level. She said, “I see that you’re really sad. You miss your friend.”

She then reminded me of one of the stories we’d been reading from Winnie-the-Pooh about how much it hurts to lose a friend, but that it’s a good hurt because we learn what it really means to have a friend. She told me that this was a Winnie-the-Pooh moment, and now that I had learned how to be a friend, new friends would magically appear.

And so it goes…

I’ve gone on to have many such moments.

On that day I became a citizen of the Hundred Acre Wood, and one more friend of Piglet, Eeyore, Kanga, Roo, Rabbit, Tigger, Owl and Christopher Robbin. I learned that we humans beings were not meant to be alone, we were meant to be with people with whom we feel safe, whom we trust, and with whom we can share even our most vulnerable feelings.

Soon after, a new family moved in across our gully and Dave soon became my best buddy. I was feeling better again. I had found a new friend. Over time, I learned all the ways that friends contribute to our lives.

They bring out the best in one another.