There’s Nothing Like Old Friends
And today is a great day to reach out to one of them
Among my oldest friends, I’m known as the elusive one, the guy who rarely shows up, is always there not here. I had two overlapping groups of high school buddies, and I loved them all dearly (though we boys didn’t say such things back then). Then life happened. Most of us left our home town. My old friends now live in California, Ohio, Washington, Italy. In the decades since, I’ve seen some of them every few years. Always “too long!” in between. I miss old friends. There’s nothing like old friends.
One of those old friends, who I had not seen since our high school graduation, reached out recently to say he’d be near to where I am, and hoped we could meet up. He’d done the same thing about 10 years ago, and I’d begged off for some stupid reason related to my introverted ways. I’m older and a wee bit wiser now, and I’ve been packing around some guilt over that missed opportunity for 10 years, so I agreed readily.
I am so very glad I did. There’s nothing like old friends.
We met for dinner, perhaps two hours, and rarely do I feel as comfortable around other humans as I did with him. There’s something about the friends you make in youth that’s near impossible to recreate with friends you make later in life.
We hugged, instantly and without hesitation. It was, I’m pretty sure, our first hug. Guys didn’t hug each other much back then.
We talked and talked. About who we were then. Who we are now. And what made us the jerks we were then, and the grownups we are now. We acknowledged that if not for each other, and the circles of good people we ran with back then, the good friends who kept us reasonably on track and in check, life could have easily gone south for either of us.
There was no politics between us, or if there was, it didn’t come up. It wouldn’t matter. We are old friends.
We caught up on wives, kids, careers. Shared our winding paths. Each of us recalled things the other had no memory of. It was delightful to know I’m not the only one who remembers very little from high school. Snapshots. Bits and pieces. A name without a face. A face without a name. As I told him in an email the next morning: “I’ve never had good long-term memory, and some of those memories probably fade for good reason — yet we know we were tight then, and we value that friendship and shared experience still today.”
I’m telling you this to remind you that your old friends would love to hear from you. In today’s disconnected world, there’s way too much loneliness going on — it’s actually reshaping our brains, as psychiatrist and neuroscientist John Kruse wrote this week.
And as I’ve written before, psychologists tell us that our friends and even acquaintances appreciate hearing from us far more than we think they will. A simple text, a little hello, maybe even a phone call or a meetup. People routinely underestimate the emotional power of their own outreach, according to a study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.
“People are fundamentally social beings and enjoy connecting with others,” said lead author Peggy Liu, PhD, an associate professor of business at the University of Pittsburgh. “There is much research showing that maintaining social connections is good for our mental and physical health. However, despite the importance and enjoyment of social connection, our research suggests that people significantly underestimate how much others will appreciate being reached out to.”
My old friend, in the next-day email exchange, asked me to share any of my writing that would help him understand who I am now, since he’s still figuring out who he is. That’s the thing about us humans. We can be 61 years old and still trying to figure out who we are. Old friends, I’m reminded yet again, can help tremendously with that self-reflection.
So here was my reply:
I’ve figured out, after decades of not fully understanding myself, that I’m an introvert with some ability to be an extrovert when necessary (pretty common, I learned in researching it). So I avoid crowds, and even individuals who I don’t have a shared history with. My wife is same, and Covid really helped us realize we just love being alone together. The big exception to our hermiting ways is seeing old friends, and you’ve reminded me I should lean into that more. And as you might’ve guessed, I’ve written about it:
Thanks, old friend. What a wonderful evening. I hope everyone who reads this reaches out to an old friend today.
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