I have been thinking lately about the passage of time and how friendships come and go from your life. Perhaps it was my husband's recent 20 year high school reunion and the thoughts it incited about my own just a few years away. Maybe it is facebook: the names, faces and memories that it brings back to the forefront of my mind. Whatever the cause, I have found myself mourning a few great friendships that just petered out.
I left for college at 17 and did not marry until I was 27. In those 10 years I had 14 different roommates. I was a bridesmaid 12 times. I have been blessed to have a great deal of meaningful, beautiful friendships. Some have stood the test of time and distance. Others have not. I have tried to pinpoint predictors or common denominators of the ones that survived versus the ones that faded out. I cannot put my finger on it.
I am actually rather surprised with how some of them ended up. A couple of the ones that were the deepest--where we went through some of the most difficult circumstances together---have fallen away. I did some very painful chapters of life with people I rarely have contact with these days. Yet, others that were more casual acquaintances have grown more intimate and important with time. It is a mystery.
I have lived in 6 cities through various stages of life. I know it is unrealistic to expect there to be room for all those relationships to remain healthy and vibrant. Still, I miss some of those friendships greatly. I care for those women and wish we were more than Christmas card friends, but I struggle with how to handle those feelings. It seems bit a awkward when we do talk--I still have such affection for the place the once held in my life, but life has moved on.
There are husbands and children to love on...new friends assigned to this place and stage of life...and only so much time and energy left to devote outside of that. It is painful that everyone cannot make the cut.
There is no neat bow to wrap up this post...just reflections on a fact of life that is hard to understand.