The Joys of Friendship.

 View of the garden of the house where I stayed, in Wye.
Part of the back of the house where I lived for 31 years.

After the last blog staggered into the light following weeks of silence, I am back blog-producing weekly. I returned to Beloved Brugge a week ago after nearly three weeks of absence and visitor-focus, to find the little town still as beautiful; the temporary, pop-up Pre-Triennale cafe outside the theatre, gone and Papageno truly visible once more. The plastic shroud enveloping the entire theatre for painting, also removed to reveal subtle shades of yellow and all three ATMs in the Paribas facility not working. Even Paradise isn’t perfect!

I spent a long weekend in Wye where I lived and loved for 31 years and though I didn’t visit anyone as my time was limited and arranged already, the wonderful luncheon in a magnificent garden in Chilham [that postcard-pretty village nearby] gave me a prolonged opportunity to catch up with many friends. The genuine warmth of recognition and greeting was uplifting to spirits already high and the long chats I managed with several old friends was what psychologists call ‘strokes’ i.e. affectionate nudges to the ego!! In fact, the warm memory has caused me to ponder on the concept of friendship, real friendship, that is, not the social media kind.

I had two dear girl friends, both now dead, met when I was 20, socialised with, danced, pub-visited, dined, drank and journeyed with over perhaps sixty years. After our first few years living near each other, one moved to Borneo and I moved miles away from base. Contact was relatively rare over more than fifty years, but when we did meet, the interrupted conversation resumed as if it had never stopped and the comfortable togetherness remained. I didn’t think of contacting either when I encountered problems but I did see some of their children from time to time and one of my daughters stayed with one of the two, when she was in Borneo. So, compared to some friendships, this was intermittent in contact yet constant in emotional closeness when we did meet or speak.

Part of a group of friends, united by a passion for Mah Jong.
Celebrating a birthday with Chinese food.

This year I experienced the return of Chronic Fatigue, something I had endured for around twenty years in the past. The return proved to last only a temporary few months but a group of Bruggean friends brought me a hot meal each day for two weeks; provided massage for a damaged back during the same period, and did some shopping for me. I have known these friends for around three years and generally see them for a weekly get-together. They happen to be chiefly younger than I. So a completely different set-up from my old friends above but the term ‘friendship’ seems to cover both. There is the same warmth, kindness, empathy all of which are so sustaining to the recipient.

In Book V111 of Nichomachean Ethics [350 BC] three types of friendship are described; friendships of utility; friendships of pleasure and friendships of the good. The first covers those who add convenience to your life, like the easy, reliable welcome in the newspaper shop where I call every Saturday. The second category has those who help to keep you light-hearted. Definitely the skinny Afghan waiter in the restaurant nearby who shouted, ‘Hello darling; good to see you,’ as I passed this morning. Always he cheers me on my way, sometimes after a little chat to enquire about family and his application for Belgian citizenship. The third friendships, of the good, are rare but precious. With such a friend, every topic under the sun, including your deepest fears or triumphs, can be discussed; souls can be bared, hopes and mistakes shared; family worries confided. In this hierarchy of friendship, perhaps only my sister would qualify; maybe my children too.

A family group exhibiting the third category of friendship:
Friendship of the good..

Friendship is about caring, empathy, loyalty, trust. Euripides said that friends show their love in times of trouble not in times of happiness, but my experience suggests that Friendship is a Man For All Seasons. One constantly hears the advice for the elderly to have social contacts and social activities to help them remain mentally and physically healthy and one can see why. To be with people who make you happy; to be in company you enjoy, is a simple task, a simple gift for well-being, for to feel valued by others is a deep human need satisfied. I recently read a deceptively simple statement by Emerson which rather hits the spot. ‘The only way to have a friend, is to be a friend’.