Presence, and the barometer of friendship

I had a strange reminder today of how my idea of friendship might be different than my friends. It was kind of an unfortunate conversation, where she actually said “how can you be considered a close friend, we’ve only seen each other twice.” It was clear that we had different definitions of what constituted friendship. And let the record be clear, this wasn’t one of those blurry interested-in-something-more-because-in-When-Harry-Met-Sally-guys-can’t-be-friends-with-girls, this was a question of friendship alone.

In this particular case, I valued the friendship more on the fact that we’d been talking on the phone for probably about a year and a quarter, every month or so, and usually for over an hour. We emailed a fair amount, as well. We didn’t see each other much because we lived far away. I thought of her not necessarily as a close friend, but at least as a friend whose company meant a lot to me.

You’re probably curious why a conversation like this would come up. It had something to do with making time when one was in the area of the other–I thought it worth going out of one’s way, etc. As one might imagine, little debates like this never really go anywhere. But it got me thinking about what makes a good friendship for me.

For me, friendships (and relationships) are all about presence. Sometimes that means getting together a couple times a month, but more often it means the occasional phone call, email, or card. Some of my closest friends are people within a few miles, but we’re all so busy that I don’t even get to see them that often. But we talk. A lot. And it’s the thought of knowing that a friend is around if you need them, regardless of geography.

And it’s that whole contrast that’s so profound to me–that you can be closest to people on the other side of the globe and that a friend down the street might never make much of an impact. Part of it is because of the increased effort involved–when people who you wouldn’t normally run into make time, that time is more special. And part of it is just that proximity is a circumstance, not a choice; circumstance is a symptom but not the cause of a good friendship.

It’s sad to me sometimes how hard it’s been to keep in touch with some friends who are now far away–people who at one time I’d shared so much with. One or two calls a year would probably “get the job done” but they’re busy in their own worlds. For them, proximity is a qualification for their time.

I guess it comes down to what’s important in friendships. Much as I like hiking together or chatting over coffee, a conversation from a thousand miles away means just as much. This is where some people have a different barometer for what friendship means. I only hope that as I get older I can hang on to those who I enjoy so much these days, even though I know many will be moving away. Hopefully we can appreciate presence from a distance. Or maybe this is just a hint so you-know-who-you-are should call back.