When it comes to friendships, I’ve always had a problem. Like many things in life that I idealize, you can blame the books that I read as a child for forming my definition of friendship. My tweens were defined by the following series: Babysitters Club (punctuation correct according to the block letters on the original books), Sweet Valley Twins, Sweet Valley High, and Love Stories, where the concept of having one (or a few) very close best friends who you would know forever and who would know every intimate detail about you (and you about them) was introduced. Best friends grow up together, go to school together, are bridesmaids at each other’s weddings and godmothers to each other’s children, and down the road start stories with “remember when we were 12/26/39 and…” and the other friend knows exactly what her friend is talking about.

When I was between the age of six and ten, my best friends were Juliana and Quincey, though I don’t recall calling them that. At the age of 12 I met Pam and she became my best friend by definition: we spent every minute together at school, would get home and talk on the phone all night (or until my dad told me to get off the phone) and we’d hang out often. She introduced me to a lot of Christian (musical) artists and I can still remember some of the Amy Grant songs we used to sing together. She played clarinet while I played flute and if I ever figure out how to convert a vhs recording to something that can be posted online, I will post a silly video of the two and our infamous duet.

During that school year, Pam and I became friends with Jen and her best friend Ann, and from there on the four of us became our own group, although it was still clear how we divided up into pairs.

After a year of bliss, the unthinkable happened: my family had to move. I was heartbroken: after making the closest friends I had ever had in my life, I had to leave them behind, while they would get to grow up together. I was not happy. I even went missing on the day of the big move but I was found (Pam and I had gone for a walk through our favourite hangouts in my neighbourhood and we had cried up a storm) and off my family went to Quebec. It was an interesting year (it wasn’t supposed to only be a year’s move but it turned out that way), and I was able to keep in contact with my best friend and my two close friends really well (through the technology called The Letter). Jen even had a “Jummy corner” in her bedroom where she posted my letters and pictures of the two of us. I still have our letters somewhere.

When I came back a year later, it was time to start highschool. Pam was going to a different school because of the zoning laws that selected what highschool we would attend based on where we lived. Jen and Ann were going to the same school as I was but they had been registered way before I returned to the city so our schedules weren’t exactly compatible. Pam and I called each other after school on the first day to compare notes and we tried to keep in contact but it just didn’t work out.

Although I can’t remember now if I ever called Pam my best friend to her face or to others, that’s how I felt about her. Our friendship gradually dissolved and soon after I stopped calling anybody my best friend.

Interestingly enough, my sister works for Pam’s doctor, and she gave my sister her contact information for me to contact her. I did and we exchanged a few emails. Then I ran into her very unexpectedly at a bus stop near my work, where we had only a few moments to exchange words. This happened twice and we still haven’t had the coffee date we mentioned to catch up on each other’s life. Sixteen years later and not surprisingly, our priorities have shifted.

*(Must learn to proofread titles—who else noticed the spelling mistake in the title earlier?)

Filed under: Friends by jummy