There is a song from my childhood that I hear in my head every so often. "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold." Now, I know that new friends are ultra-important. And I understand that I need to go out & make an effort to make those new friends in order to fulfill the goal of the song.
Having said that (and blowing it away with a quick swat of my hand... especially since I haven't been that successful at doing it yet), old friends are, in my opinion, about the most precious possessions one can have. (And, of course, "old friends" also includes family members!) They've been with you for so long. They know your secrets; they know what makes you happy; they knew what makes you sad. They just know... well, you.
So, I ran across another interesting quote in All the King's Men that I marked while I was on the plane last week. Of course, it has to do with old friends. I thought I'd throw it out there... not sure if I agree with it, but here goes: "The Friend of Your Youth is the only friend you will ever have, for he does not really see you. He sees in his mind a face which does not exist any more, speaks a name - Spike, Bud, Snip, Red, Rusty, Jack, Dave - which belongs to that now nonexistent face but which by some inane and doddering confusion of the universe is for the moment attached to a not too happily met and boring stranger. But he humors the drooling doddering confusion of the universe and continues to address politely that dull stranger by the name which properly belongs to the boy face. ... [T]he Friend of Your Youth is your friend because he does not see you any more. And perhaps he never saw you. ... The Friend of Your Youth is the only friend you will ever have, for he hasn't the slightest concern with calculating his interest or your virtue. He doesn't give a damn, for the moment, about Getting Ahead or Needs Must Admiring the Best, the two official criteria in adult friendships, and when the boring stranger appears, he puts out his hand and smiles (not really seeing your face) and speaks your name (which doesn't really belong to your face), saying "Well, Jack, damned glad you came, come in, boy!"
Does that "old friend aura" come from knowing each other so well or not really knowing the "not too happily met and boring stranger"? Is it truly that we value those old friendships purely because of our history together or was there really an unseverable bond of friendship established long ago?
I would guess that there are a few of both scenarios in my trunk full of old friends (which I sometimes begin to feel is small & light, but when I start actually looking through the names & faces, I realize there are so many there and that each one holds a special place in my heart and my heart is just bursting with the joy & sadness & other emotions that well up inside of me with each thought of a memory shared with another "old friend"). Some I will always cherish simply because of the people we used to be and the moments we shared. And, others... well, you're probably the scariest friends I have (I know, strange word choice... but I'm going with it). You're the ones who make me feel the most vulnerable, yet real... you see me... and I hope, that even with that x-ray vision into who I was/am/will be (the "name which properly belongs to the boy (or girl!) face", "the dull stranger", and whatever the "drooling doddering confusion of the universe" has in store for the me of tomorrow), you still count me among one of your "old friends" too.
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