If he’s not happy I’m not happy.
Not everything is lovely. Not all endings are happy. A thing I want to share with some of our readers who are just approaching what used to be called middle age. You won’t be able to take all your friends with you. One of the commenters on a recent post alluded to this in passing. I know it’s a source of grief. But it really shouldn’t be.
Every life has a trajectory. Imagine each life with a graph of that trajectory. As with most graphs, there will be intersections. Unlikely that all the trajectories of youth will coincide for long. Why marriage is so sacredly important. It’s a vow that two trajectories will remain the same, will intertwine themselves and stay together. The double helix of lived life. Think. You can actually see it.
Not how friendships work. There can be consistencies that keep trajectories close, within hailing distance because of shared values and interests. But there are also certain to be shocking divergences. Oaths of friendship are not marriage vows. As you proceed through life, you WILL lose friends you never thought you would.
The compensation is that there are new friends. People whose early trajectories might have been startlingly different than yours. But a convergence occurs that might be more meaningful than the coincidences of youth. Mature people may be headed in the same direction, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. Be open to the possibility.
Not every lost friendship is a failure. Not every new friendship is a sign of superficial “affection of the moment.” You’re not who you were when you were 20, 30, or 40. That’s okay. Because some people are. They’re stuck. They’re lost. Or they’ve chosen a very different path from anything that makes sense to the you you are now.
Forgive yourself and welcome the new friends. The old friends who are worthy will make themselves known to you. Not your job to bend over backwards out of misbegotten loyalty.
Honestly, Raebert doesn’t get this. His trajectory is much more like a marriage vow, both to me and his mommy. Upset me and you upset him. Some friendships are like that. Most aren’t.
I hate to do this because everyone knows that I revere Fitzgerald above all other American writers. But here’s one of the reasons why. He defined the difference between romance and sentimentality in simple terms. The romantic knows that everything has to end. The sentimentalist wants everything to go on forever. It doesn’t. And it can’t. Meaning the romantic is the realist and the sentimentalist the utopian fool. Go figure.
Simmer down, Raebert. We have plenty of the best friends anyone ever had. And our friends are your friends.
This one really tugged at my heart, as I’d been reflecting on my own relationships lately. I knew that I’d say goodbye to almost all of my high school friends, and many of my college friends. I knew that I’d stay here at school (a ‘lifer’, perhaps?) as others moved on, and we’d fall out of touch. Parenthood introduced a huge new group of acquaintances, but are they friends? They could be, but how much time can I really give any new relationship? This, too, shall pass — I know. But as actual friendships dwindle and fade for lack of fuel, it’s sometimes hard for me to see the next ones coming. I assume they will. This post helped reassure me.
Oh, and what an amazing pic! THIS should be the iconic image of this site. Art!
Yeah. I know. That thing where you flip the iPhone from out to in. Self portrait. Unfair to Raebert but art nonetheless.
A technical note. The Raebert pic is not photoshopped. Deerhounds are unique in not exhibiting red eye. The red eye edit function comes up empty. “No red eye found,” says the software. Facetiously, I used to ascribe that to demonic influences or reincarnation. Truthfully, I have no idea why their eyes show blue rather than red. What I can assure you of, however, is that this photograph has not been altered in any way. And in some elemental way, it IS Raebert. One of him anyway. The serious, not to be messed with Raebert. The one whose bark scares delivery men and keeps our unlocked doors safer than anyone in Chicago.
As a photographer, I know that the red eye in humans come from a flash too close to the lens objective, therefore bouncing light off the retina — red.
I’ve never really seen blue before. It’s like blue fire. Wicked.
Our greyhounds exhibit red eye big time. In pics side by side with deerhounds who don’t. All sight hounds have amazing vision. Odd that their eyes would be so different from one another.
Thanks for this, RL. Really.
“Parenthood introduced a huge new group of acquaintances, but are they friends?”
Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Lake.
Just so you know. This site isn’t like the other site. I’ll sound off quickly and often. The whole point. Which means you shouldn’t instantly forget every prior post because there’s a new one. You can keep talking on the older posts. We’re having a conversation. We can talk about more than one thing at a time. I’ll keep responding to your comments three, four, five posts later. Capiche?
Raebert is as true as they come.
“The romantic knows that everything has to end. The sentimentalist wants everything to go on forever. It doesn’t. And it can’t. Meaning the romantic is the realist and the sentimentalist the utopian fool. Go figure.”
I guess that’s why Ayn Rand called her artistic philosophy “Romantic Realism.” (KIDDING.) It’s a good point–though it’s apples and oranges in a way. One is knowing and one is wanting. You can want the one, yet know the other.
I agree with the other guys–that blue eye effect is striking. Good doggie.