The Relationship That Makes Aging So Much Easier

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I was stuck. The folding beach chair was too low, my knees were too weak and my arm strength had waned. For one horrible moment, I feared I’d be trapped in it forever, not unlike my aging body. Wasn’t it bad enough to be suffering crepey skin, hair in unwanted places and diminished hearing? Now a chair was turning against me, too?

Then my best friends from high school intervened to save me, not for the first time, and laughter quickly overcame humiliation on that southern Maine shore.

That’s the way it is with friends, especially long-term ones. They’re the ones beside you in school, at the weddings and the funerals later, and on the other end of phone calls or emails during the highs and the lows. They remember you before wrinkles and graying hair — and help you endure them. They knew your parents and maybe your grandparents. Old friends can lift you up — sometimes literally in my case — and also keep you grounded.

Sheila and Diane are those people for me. Friends since 9th-grade homeroom, we’ve progressed from discussing prom dates to how to prepare for our final days, and from sharing aspirations to comparing prescriptions. At one point, we all lived in Texas. My shin scar came from falling through a window seat while painting Diane’s living room. And we still chuckle over the year I cooked the Thanksgiving turkey with the plastic-wrapped innards inside and tried to pass off a Jello salad as gourmet food.

Our professional and relationship paths diverged during the intervening years, and some sailed by with minimal contact. There also were circumstances when two of us were together without the third. When my youngest son, his partner and I were severely injured in a head-on crash, Sheila was designated to travel to the Delaware-based trauma hospital. She arrived unannounced, bringing comfort and an extra pair of legs to get whatever we needed, before reporting back to Diane.

We always find the way back to our trio, including celebrating our children’s marriages on the dance floor. And no matter how long we’re apart, our conversations resume as if we were together the day before. No one can listen like an old friend. Or cheer you during difficult times, as I also discovered during my miserable dating experiences post-divorce.

Now in our early 70s, we’re a widow, a divorcee and me, a relative newlywed with a three-year-old second marriage to my high school boyfriend. Grandmothers Sheila and Diane live two hours apart in Texas, while I’m a time zone away in D.C. We’ve raised five children between us and survived three divorces, supporting each other throughout. The impending death of Diane’s beloved (and only) husband forced me to overcome 26 years of my fear of flying to make it to his bedside in time to say goodbye. (Thank you, Phil, for getting me back on planes.)

The three of us stay connected through video chats, email, social media and reunion trips because we know we need longtime friends more than ever as we age. I was reminded of how they make it easier (and more fun) during our last return to the New England area where we spent our high school years. Many things have changed in nearly six decades, but I was most surprised by our new travel preferences: destinations with bathrooms nearby, afternoon rest breaks and stairs with handrails.

In high school and the decades that followed, we hurled ourselves into the Atlantic to ride the waves gleefully to shore. Not only was body-surfing absent from our agenda, we didn’t even don bathing suits. The greatest difference, though, was our conversation topics, once we got past kids and grandkids. Long-term care insurance, financial stability and the information to pass on to our children have replaced parenting tips and workplace drama.

I am fortunate to have many wonderful friends, but my bond with Sheila and Diane is unique.

Kasley Killam, a Harvard-trained social scientist and author of The Art and Science of Connection, told me that friendships like ours provide “a meaningful kind of emotional intimacy that’s different from new friendships.”

“Longtime friends offer something that new friends can’t: insight into who you were long ago, understanding of what you’ve experienced over the years and shared memories at different stages of life,” she said. “Studies show that the more time you spend with someone, the closer you become so that history together is worth a lot.”

And that history often is checkered with major life changes. For me, they were a divorce, relocating hundreds of miles away for a new job and remarriage — all after 60. I remain grateful that the love and support from Diane and Sheila remained unchanged during those turbulent times.

But even if your relationships with old friends haven’t remained constant, Killam says they can be revived.

“It can be as simple as reaching out,” she told me. “It’s natural for friendships to ebb and flow, with phases when you feel very close and phases where you’re farther apart. Try saying, ‘I know we haven't been in touch for a while, but our friendship meant a lot to me. I'd love to reconnect if you're open to it!’”

And if it doesn’t work out? “You can still appreciate the times you shared and wish the person well.”

So don’t be afraid to try to connect with old friends, whether at a high school reunion, via social media, by phone or a chance encounter on the street. Your old bestie just might become your new bestie going forward!


Do any of you still have close friends from grade school or high school? Let us know in the comments below.