Friendship can be tricky. There are the friends you can say (almost) anything to, the friends whose beliefs and thoughts you have to dance around if you don't share them, and the friends who like to talk rather than listen. Then there are the friends who disappear for weeks at a time only to reappear when they are suddenly upended by something life has thrown at them. And of course the dear friends who are always there for you. I've got them all and I wouldn't be without a single one. I find people endlessly fascinating (a writer's tic I guess) which means I like my friends, warts and all. And I try very hard not to wonder what sort of friend I am. A different type of friend to different people probably.
Recently I read a piece about making friends. Apparently there is a rule about it! It's called the 11-3-6 rule. It suggests that it takes 11 encounters, each lasting at least 3 hours over a six month period, for an acquaintance to become a genuine friend. I'm sure there is detailed psychological research behind this and maybe it is a good idea for youngsters learning to negotiate life's pitfalls, but at my age, no! I don't have the time to worry whether a friendship is genuine or whether it will last. If I like someone and the feeling is mutual then I'm prepared to take a chance on us becoming friends long before I've spent that long with them.
Some of my best friendships were unexpected. There are the neighbours who, many years ago, started a snowball fight over the stand of fir trees that divided our gardens. We couldn't see one another. We hadn't met. 40 years later, we have holidayed together, attended each others' children's weddings, and despite now living many miles apart, still communicate weekly and visit regularly. Why? Because we liked them from the off and had a shared sense of humour. It was an immediate friendship if there is such a thing.
Then there is the friend I made at dog training when our puppies bonded over biscuits! And the lifelong friendship that developed at an antenatal class. Then there are the friends of friends who have become our friends too.
Over the years our friendship circle has included work colleagues, school gate parents, people who shared our sporting interests, neighbours, people we met while walking our various dogs. We have lost good friends to the grim reaper too, something that happens only too often as we age, which is another reason to nourish our friendships while we still have them.
While we have friends across a wide age range (a semi-deliberate ploy on our part as it makes life so much more interesting) our latest new friend is 93 years old. We met when I had to do some research for our local museum and asked if she was prepared to answer a few questions. It only took one visit for us to know we liked one another, and a second visit to realise we were probably going to become real friends.
At 93 years old and very pragmatic, she didn't have time for the 11-3-6 rule. Instead she bought me an Easter Egg, gave me a flower cutting, and sent me a birthday card, while I took her bunches of daffodils, always made sure I had biscuits in my pocket for her dog, and, after 4 visits, took her out for lunch. Not an easy option as she is very disabled, but my goodness did we enjoy ourselves. We talked about so many things from religion to riding horses, politics to wildlife, cars to nutrition. We each learned things from one another because she is not only interesting, she is interested.
She is my new heroine. The person I want to be at 93 if I'm lucky enough to live that long with all my faculties intact. And it didn't take the 11-3-6 rule for me to decide that.
Friendship features in my latest book, One Wish, although in the manner or all romances, a lot of things get in the way before true love wins out in the end:)
