Through Thick and Thin
A Tribute to Friendship
BY DR. NURIT ISRAELI
I have experienced the “click
phenomenon” numerous times:
meeting someone for the first
time and feeling an instant connection,
an immediate sense of recognition
which ignites a friendship.
Friendships have been of utmost
importance for me from early on.
I am my parents’ only offspring. I
always wished I had siblings and,
when I was very young, I used to
draw made-up siblings on the wall
by my bed (yes, I did get in trouble…).
Over the years, my friends
became the siblings I never had.
On my most recent visit to Haifa,
the town where I grew up, I reunited
with three of my oldest friends.
The first I befriended on the first
day of kindergarten, the second I
met at the youth movement I joined
during early adolescence, and
with the third—my best friend—I
shared a room during my two years
of military service. The three of
them arranged a reunion. We met
at the home of one of them and,
somehow, it was as if we had never
separated.
There is magic in meeting old
friends. These are the people who
knew us way back when, before
most of the important things in
our lives started to happen. They
remember our “firsts.” They entered
our story before time began to take
its toll.
The four of us were born the
same year, in the midst of a World
War, to parents overwhelmed by
losses, struggling to survive, driven
by the mission of nation-building,
compelled by the idealism of
dreamers. We all grew up in the
same town by the sea, within a few
miles of each other. They all knew
my parents, spent time in the tiny
quarters where I lived, remember
how I looked then, what (and
whom) I loved, how I passionately
and idealistically dreamed my
future.
We were all active in youth
movements, served in the army,
married young, got advanced
academic degrees, pursued challenging
careers, raised children
while working full time. We
were all prompted to become
overly responsible—brought
up to believe a shared struggle
should supersede personal
goals. We turned out to be our
parents’ caretakers and tried
our hardest. Our parents are
buried in close proximity.
Our lives started in similar
places; then I moved far away
and an ocean separated us.
Still, after years apart, we talked
like we never parted. It was
like a reunion with different
versions of myself.
One of these three remains
my best friend. We have been
friends for almost 60 years, and
the geographical distance has never
affected the strength of our bond
(studies reveal physical distance
does not interfere with the ability
to maintain close friendships).
Throughout the years, she and
I have arranged to meet regularly—
in NYC, in Israel, in Berlin
(“in the middle”). Together, we
went through adventures which
occupy special places in my memory
archive. Since we first met,
we have shared joys and sorrows,
victories and misfortunes. She was
there when I got married, when I
gave birth, and when I raised children
while developing a professional
identity. We did it all on parallel
tracks. She was there when I had to
let go of some dreams, when I came
up with new ones, and when I dealt
with the surprises life put on my
path. So much has changed in our
lives since the two of us first met,
and yet so much has remained the
same. We are somehow entwined
and our cores remain connected.
Recently, a dear newer friend
(30 years…) fulfilled one of my
bucket list items: she invited all
my women friends who could
attend—old and new, local and
distant—for a “Celebration of
Women’s Friendships” party. We
gathered at her NYC home for a
memorable get together. We found
out once again how, with good
friends, we can be ourselves—
open, honest, flawed, allowing
ourselves to be known and wanting
to know, accepting and feeling
accepted.
Good friendships become even
more important as we grow older.
The roads, for all of us
in one way or another,
become bumpier.
We choose right and
wrong paths, encounter
rough spots, face
losses and, throughout,
rely on each other
for support, cheer each
other’s achievements,
lean on each other in
difficult times, inspire
each other to grow.
So here’s to the
friendships we hold
dear. Here’s to this
most special human
bond which enriches
our lives in countless
ways. And here’s to
embracing the potential for new
friendships. As Maya Angelou
reminds us (in her “Letter to My
Daughter”), “A friend may be waiting
behind a stranger’s face.”
Childhood friendships are memorable
BFFs... Still
24 NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER ¢ October 2018