A River of Friends

A River of Friends

Tonight is a quiet night at my workplace. I work as a computer operator for a county municipal water department. I monitor a program that displays the real-time status of the water towers, pumps, valves and chemical feeds for the county. Some nights the work is demanding and takes a lot of concentration and skill to perform. On other nights the system pretty much runs itself with only the occasional tweaking necessary. Tonight was one of the quiet ones. I'd accomplished the additional clerical tasks that were my duty for the evening and had settled into an observant monitor mode, watching the system as it and I moved through the hours, moved through the night.

And as I sat there watching the display screen, my mind drifted a bit and began returning to a question I'd been puzzling over for some time. The question was, “What constitutes a friend?”

I don't believe there's an easy answer to this, even if you might think there was at first glance. Perhaps you could begin your determinations by formulating a list of what characteristics or qualities would define a friend.

Maybe it's someone you've known a very long time, most of your life even. Someone whom you're very familiar with. Someone who you're fond of or attached to in some way. And then there are the various degrees of relationships or friendships to consider – acquaintances, friendly acquaintances, people you are friendly with but not friends, near-friends, people who you are friends with but not close friends, just friends, close friends and best friends.

The sex of the friend is generally immaterial unless the friendship evolves into love but, even then, lovers can be friends, too.

One dictionary I looked at primarily defines a friend as, “a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.” I think that's about right.

The question then becomes “how do we obtain friends and can you lose one?”

On obtaining friends it seems obvious, at least to me, that you have to be a friend to get a friend. But losing friends? That's a toughie. I'm not sure it's even possible.

I've got friends I was almost immediately friends with the same day I met them, but that's not generally the case. It usually takes a period of time to move from the acquaintance, friendly acquaintance, etc., etc. before they slip neatly into one of the “friends” categories – near, just friends, close or best. And sometimes that progression falters at one step and the person stays at one of the lower levels.

An old joke states, “A friend will help you move. A best friend will help you move a body.” I think that puts it quite succinctly.

It really wouldn't take a genius to figure out why my head was full of these questions at this period of time. Some old friends had come back into my life over the past year and I was enjoying listening to the story of their lives. And, in return, telling some of my story back to them.

And I had reached a difficult period with one of my best friends.

In the first instance, I'd lost contact with a lady whom I'd been close friends with in the '70's and '80's. I didn't even know her address or her last name. I'd heard through the grapevine that she'd divorced, remarried and had moved to Arizona. That was about it. She returned around a year ago to her (and my) hometown for her father's funeral and I saw her again after a separation of many years. It took about one minute after again seeing her to rediscover our friendship and to carry on from where it was paused all those years ago.

I'd also restarted a friendship with a couple of guys I'd served with in the military. We'd spent the better part of a year and a half at an Air Force base in the Panama Canal Zone and had grown quite close. When the tour in Central America had ended we'd gone our separate ways – Joe stayed in the service, saw the world and retired to eventual college and a librarian position a stone's throw away from the Pacific Ocean in California. Al went back to the farm in northern Iowa for a while, moved around a lot, stuck his fingers into a lot of pies and eventually settled in a small town in southwestern Missouri. Ernie returned to his beloved Oregon, raised kids and dogs and eventually retired. And Tony ended up in West Virginia, divorced and dating again in his early 60's. Me? I went back to my Ohio birth town, married, had a son and worked with computers.

I've recently got reacquainted with these gentlemen (and lady) and am deep in the process of assimilating their life stories and annexing them with my own. It's an exhilarating process and I'm enjoying the hell out of it!

The second instance, the difficult period with one of my best friends, is occurring as I write. He had unthinkingly done something recently that may have some negative implications to my career. I know it wasn't done with animosity, but the action may end up hurting me in the long run. And in these uncertain economic times you have to be extra careful with your words, actions and thoughts.

I'm still trying to cope with my feelings regarding this action. I know that this man will always be my friend, even if we never pass another friendly word to each other again. Too much water has passed under the bridge for that to change. And he's been a lifeboat for me on too many occasions, pulling me from the fire, rescuing my bacon, being there for me when I needed someone. That will never be dismissed or forgotten.

So I sit here in my quiet office and watch the computers, listening to their digital words as they tell me what's happening in their world. “All is well with me,” one water tower whispers. “Me too, me too,” others say. Two pumps chatter with their messages also, “I'm pumping this much water a minute!” one of them excitedly says. “My chlorine is this much!” another one proudly displays. And through the long, quiet shift the tower levels move upward and downward, the pumps hum and the water wends its way down long, dark pipes to sit a while and wait. Soon a faucet opens for a thirsty child, a toilet flushes, a shower starts providing hot, steamy water for a thankful user on this cold evening. And the life-giving water flows some more.

My friends are out there somewhere on this dark, winter night in their different parts of America, going about their business right this very minute. Maybe they're sitting in their home with their feet up by the fireplace, watching a favorite TV show. Or sitting at a familiar desk, smiling at a well-turned phrase and writing their letters, stories and poetry. Or perhaps playing on the floor with their old dog, their furry friend and companion of many good years. Or maybe quietly watching a beloved husband as he naps on the couch under a window open to the warm, desert air. Perhaps even sitting in a nighttime meeting where the good works of the world are accomplished quietly, unobtrusively and with dignity.

And this river of my friends flows around me and through me, touching me and returning my touch to them. I am refreshed and revitalized.

I wish you well tonight, my friends.