Friends for Life

Kerry Thomson - 13 Jan 17

‘Friends for a Season, Friends for a Reason, Friends for Life’

I was reminded of this phrase following a wonderfully unexpected visit a few weeks ago from my oldest friend. Our friendship was forged over pink wafers and hot Ribena back in 1980 at aged just three when we both started at ‘Mrs Duff’s, our local playgroup.

As I picked up my three year old daughter from her local playgroup today and watched her skipping round the courtyard hand in hand with her current best friend, I wondered if they would still be best pals in 37 years time.

So why is it that our friendship has endured for so long while others have fallen by the wayside? How has ours survived the many different guises we’ve shrugged on and off through the decades? Perhaps three year olds are able to see to the very core essence of others in a way in that we just don’t as we age. Did our three year old selves look at each other over those pink wafers and know that we would be friends for life no matter what life threw at us?

After playgroup we moved through school together gathering with us a core group of two others. The four of us have seen each other through love, heartache, moving away from home, moving to the other side of the world and the death of parents. Once when I was particularly in need of them, they dropped everything to take me away for a weekend. Leaving their tiny babies behind with nervous husbands – a sacrifice the then childless me could not comprehend.

And then there are my other tribe – my university crew. When I left school I never thought I’d make such strong friendships again. I was wrong. This hardcore gang saw me through a different phase of my life. Days of endless partying, unsuitable boyfriends, all night chats drinking tea and eating Sara Lee chocolate gateau; watching both daily editions of  ‘Neighbours’ without ever having left the sofa. The strongest of these friendships have weathered the storm of the years and seen us become wives and mothers. When the miles finally bring us together again it’s like time has stood still.

Then there is the one that didn’t make it. A brief teenage romance that morphed into a friendship enduring over twenty years. He died suddenly and unexpectedly in his sleep three years ago. I was eight months pregnant with my daughter and will never forget the phone call from my mum one hot September afternoon, ‘I’ve got some dreadful news’ she said, ‘I think you’d better sit down’.

I couldn’t process the grief. I had to put it to one side. I was terrified it would swallow me up. I couldn’t focus on becoming a mum again to a tiny little human and deal with the sorrow. But it came to find me later and it still seeks me out. Some days it catches me without warning. A vivid dream, a voice in my head, a song on the radio. It can make me feel almost physically gasping for air. Suffocating. This huge hole that I have to learn to walk around rather than fall into.

Last summer I spent three happy days with my family in a coastal hangout of our shared past. Three happy days tinged with sadness. I hadn’t been back since he had died. One morning, for once I welcomed the early rising of my youngest and we set off for a walk around the bay looking out onto the wild North Atlantic coastline. There was a fierce storm coming in but I could see a shaft of bright light clearly shining over the beach where we spent many teenage days – escaping from our parents to smoke Marlboro Lights and drink vodka. Who knows what that light was but to me, it finally gave me peace

I hope that my children are blessed with enduring friendships like I have been. Touchstones that will remain ever constant throughout their lives and not leave them when the going gets tough. Those who love you without judgement, can criticise you when it’s needed, laugh like there’s no tomorrow and share a mutual love of pink wafers.

Kerry Thomson

I'm Kerry, I live in the sticks in Scotland with one husband, three kids, one dog, six chickens, 200 cattle and 2500 sheep. You can read more about me and my gang on my blog www.postcardsfrommykitchentable.com

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