Several major studies have indicated that meaningful friendships are the best medicine for a long, happy life. They beat out gobs of money, job success or where one might choose to live.
This got me thinking of Jerry, one of my pals in grade school. We lived about half a mile apart, with Saint Cecilia Grade School right in the middle. Without thinking a whit about it, we developed a pattern that drove our parents nuts. Many school days, Jerry would walk me home. We didn’t have to say much. It just felt good to have a friend walking next to me, kicking pine cones down the sidewalk. Approaching my house, Jerry and I would turn right around and start walking back the other way, past the school and to Jerry’s house. If we were discussing something special, like toads, foods we hated the most or how to skip rocks, Jerry and I would flip around back toward Saint Cecilia. You get the picture. This could go on past dinner time.
I’d love to have a 75-year-old Jerry in my life today. Often, I’ve recognized what really counts is not where I’m walking to but who is walking alongside me.