Friendships have been on my mind lately.  It didn’t take all the research that’s out there about the importance of friends as we age to convince me that they are crucial to our well-being.

Here’s my inventory of friends:

Friends I’ve known the longest—both named Barbara—both known since I was four years old.  One—we just exchange birthday cards; the other—we exchange multiple emails, phone calls and visits.

Friends from high school:  Two live in Greater Boston, and we talk regularly. 

College:  My closest college friend now lives less than two miles away.  I love having her nearby.  We’ve shared so much over the years and still are sharing.

Work:  Close work friendships are harder to keep up now that I am retired, but I see three friends regularly and have lunch occasionally with others.

Former neighbors:  My across-the-street neighbor in the house where our children grew up moved away in 1989.  Twenty-five years later, we still talk every Sunday (except if one of us is out of the country).  And in the last few months, we’ve got together with two other friends from that neighborhood even though we’ve been gone for twenty years.

New friends:  I think I started to think more about friendships because of our newest friends.  We met them in an elevator just a year ago.  They are Canadian.  They are gracious and loving and generous.  We saw them in Toronto last summer.  Earlier this week, they gave a party for us here in Florida so that we could meet all their friends. It’s wonderful to have new friends that are so special.

I am grateful for all my friends, especially my best friend of all. 

His name is Peter.