Make New Friends, But Keep the Old

One is Silver and the Other Gold

photo from Canva.com

If you’re a Girl Scout from the 60’s I apologize for the likely ear worm you’re experiencing, but what, I should suffer alone? We sang this song at the end of every week’s meeting. It was drilled into our little heads when we were too young to have “old” friends or know what silver and gold were. The fact that it stuck with me for nearly sixty years should tell you something. I’m actually not sure why this was a theme of the Girl Scouts. Maybe our sewing and housekeeper badges or social dependability pins weren’t bonding enough.

Even if you’re not one of those who wore the cute little uniform in the middle of the last century, the topic of friendship is one you’ll already have done some thinking about. I mean, you 90’s kids have a couple of favorite sitcoms on the subject, that’s all the evidence I need that it’s important to you. And if you’re a fully formed adult of, say, over 30, you can use the word “old” when talking about those friends you’ve had for a couple decades already.

This little ditty about friends from my green beret years is one of those things you learned and forgot and then, in a moment of nostalgia, remembered again and maybe pondered for an unreasonable amount of time. Just me? That’s okay, take the ride.

I’m going to assume that silver is the “new friends” and gold, well “golden oldies,” “golden age,” “golden days,” so we’ll go with “the old” is represented by that metal. I mean, a fiftieth anniversary gift is supposed to be gold, so if you make it that far silver just doesn’t seem good enough, right?

Silver Linings

It’s really hard to make new friends once braiding someone else’s hair or sitting in a massage circle seems creepy. Even if you were an introvert as a child, you likely had at least one real friend you connected with. And if you were an extrovert, you had new best friends every time you walked into a room. You bonded over disliking the same people or liking the same music or coming from the same type of household or any of the myriad things kids’ lives are full of. You completely opened yourself to friends, and you genuinely liked each other just the way you were. You had fun together.

But then you start working for a living. You make work friends who bond over disliking the same people or liking the same music, etc. It’s not the same, but they’re real friends. You may share a love of the after-work cocktail, you may travel together and have a great time, you may even meet their siblings or parents or their “old” friends and it’s really good. But something makes you not go all in, not completely trust the other people with your real self. You have to worry about things like your reputation or competing for advances. You might be concerned about their salaries vs. yours, their love life vs. yours, their political stances vs. yours, their gossip levels vs. yours.

You’re a grown-up now and you’ve learned not to wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re a bit jaded. Maybe you’ve been hurt by a friend you trusted. And these new friends, these silver ones who are in your life because of where you work or whether your kids are on the same team or you both hated the lady in front of you in line at the grocery store with all the expired coupons or you develop new interests like I did late in life, they’re an important part of this stage of your life. And when the kids are grown and gone, when you retire and leave the work world behind, if you’re really lucky a few of these silver friends turn gold.

Pot of Gold at the End of the Rainbow

Not that I’m saying that life after 60 is the end of the rainbow, although I kind of am because it kind of is, but those friends who’ve stuck with you are really special.

I am lucky to have several gold friends in my life (including my husband of 45 years) and some who might almost qualify as gold except for the fact we lost touch for 20 years and then reconnected. They are gray-area gold, I guess, because they knew me when and still like me now.

Gold friends are those who’ve been through your life’s shit with you. They saw you when you were raw, confused, emotional and insecure as a teenager, and were going through it at the same time. Arguably, teenager you is the worst you; and if they are still here, that says something.

Those friends were there in your twenties when you were still confused, emotional and insecure but maybe not quite as raw. Your thirties, that time when things suddenly didn’t look as scary and bleak; maybe you found a life partner, maybe you found your career path, maybe you had kids. Those friends were your cheerleaders, you biggest critics, your reminder to not lose sight of who you once were as you become you who are now.

Then the forties and fifties arrive, and shit is getting real and you begin to realize life is not as long as you thought and sixty is not as old as you thought and you start to gain some perspective and maybe even wisdom about bigger things. Who do you call to share those thoughts with? Those old friends, who you might only see or speak to a few times a year, but when you do it feels like yesterday.

Sixty, though; sixty, man, that’s different. When you and your gold friends hit this decade and, in spite of the fact that a lot of sixty-year-olds still consider themselves middle-aged (hint: you’re not. Come on, once you can get senior discounts, all bets are off.), you realize you’re growing old together, and that’s both enlightening and frightening. That’s where I’m at with my gold friends and I’m fortunate. My longtime friends, who don’t enjoy being called “old friends” even though…, still like to travel, still have a lot of energy, still like to eat and party like we do. We have so much fun together and I’m willing to bet if I asked, they’d jump on the idea of braiding each other’s hair and doing massage circles.

The Lesson in the Song, if There is One

The phrase in that Girl Scout song is a warning: Go ahead, make new friends by all means; they’re important to your own personal growth and journey. They help shape you as you morph through life’s ages and stages.

But don’t forget those who loved you unconditionally from a young age, who became the sister from another mister or brother from another mother. Don’t forgo those who played with you the games kids play, who experimented with you, tried on different personalities, explored life and the world with you. Because they are rare like diamonds and precious like…well, you get it.