silver and gold
by lisa horak

As a Girl Scout I learned the old song “Make new friends but keep the old, One is silver and the other is gold.” Lately I find myself fascinated by the phenomenon of old friends and the ongoing role they play in my life.

There are so many clichés about old friends, like that they are as comfortable as an old pair of shoes or your favorite pair of blue jeans. To me, the best thing about old friends is that regardless of how long it has been, you simply pick up where you left off, whether it was a day, a month, or a year ago.

Recently I went back to Washington, D.C., where I lived until a few months ago, and had lunch with my dearest friend Cathy. Our children were with us, so the conversation was choppy to begin with. But our conversations have never been linear. They hop from the monumental to the trivial like some crazy game of hopscotch. But it’s okay because that’s the way it has always been. We never have enough time together so we have to say our thoughts quickly and at random before we forget them. Our lunch was way too short. We only had an hour or two to cram in talk of the future, dreams and goals, our children's schools and sicknesses, new recipes, and high school gossip. Not to mention family updates, vacation plans, and, of course, when we might next get to see each other.

There is a rich history to this friendship. Cathy and I met when we were eleven years old. Together we played jacks, traded stickers, worshipped Andy Gibb, rode bicycles, had our first crushes, attended sweet sixteen parties, and endured SATs, parties and proms. We went our separate ways to college—she to Northwestern University in Chicago and me to Duke University in Durham. But always we would regroup and connect at home in suburban Maryland. After college we were on opposite coasts—she in Los Angeles and me in Washington, D.C. To keep us sane, we would go on vacations together. Crazy Thelma-and-Louise jaunts to Maui or New Mexico or to one of our homes. And always, we would resume where we left off.

Finally, just when our phone bills could take it no longer, fate brought us to the same city and gave us the most incredible gift. We each had two little girls, very close in age. And a new phase of our friendship began, one that embraced this new generation of girls predestined to be best friends. Through babyhood, sleepless nights, illnesses, mommy identity crises and everything else, we have been there for each other. Then I blew it. I moved to Asheville, and now I must make new friends, just like that Girl Scout song says.

My other best friend, Lesley, came to visit me this past weekend. She lives in Indiana and it had been two years since I had last seen her. Not to worry. After singing all the bad 1980s songs we could think of on the way home from the airport (songs by the Little River Band, Poco, and Seals & Crofts, to name a few) we were laughing as hard as we did when we were seventeen. She came bearing exciting news—she had just gotten engaged the night before and we spent the weekend talking about weddings and looking at dresses and sharing a whole new chapter together. It seems to me that new adventures with old friends keep old friendships new.

New friends, on the other hand, require so much effort and there is so much on the line. You have to be vulnerable and start from square one all over again. Some days I whine to my husband that I have plenty of wonderful friends….just not here. Then I meet someone new and really connect and I know that it will happen. Not every new friend will be a soul mate, but someday a new friend just might become an old friend.
A friendly voice. Unconditional support. Someone who knows all your secrets and loves you anyway. An old friend is a treasure beyond words. Those Girl Scouts sure knew what they were talking about.

Lisa Horak is a stay at home mom raising two young daughters, Molly and Isabel. She has written for non-profit organizations and is the co-editor of Heart of the Land and Off the Beaten Path, a fiction and non-fiction anthology of nature writing for The Nature Conservancy. and is currently working on her first children’s book. She can be reached at horak@charter.net.