How many close friends do you have?

:fet's say zip, zero, I had lots of friends while working, people I know from my son's activities. Retired, work friends deserted when our employment reduced and I was the only one kept. Keep in mind, over a 14 year period I stepped up to learn every position in the office. Next job kept for 10 years until I found out Managers were more interested in cheating on their wives than thier jobs, nope, I was gone even though considered a great employee. They did not want me to tell anyone else I was leaving........wonder why?

Next job, loved the girls, loved the boss, an honorable man, enjoyed the work, I was the down fall, husband sick with cancer, Then the boss got cancer. He came back with memory loss, hired a guy, scientologist and it all fell apart,

Now, nothing left, people i loved respected all gone before their time. Many who could not forgive i got to keep my job when they did not. I did not have love and care for them any less but it was not a situation that could be mended. It breaks my heart that so many have passed that I loved so much. It would have been a great blessing to have worked with them my entire life. Those were the happiest times of my life.

If I could go back and chose it would be that job and that time when my son was born, A time so full of joy and happiness I have neve again experienced.
 

Thank you.(y)

Are you going to tell us or keep us in the dark? :)
It's just too much for me to go into, but I'm sure you can imagine what I meant. Here's an example: I go to a local piano bar about once a week, and talk to this guy Joe who's always there; one night I walked in and he introduced me to his daughter. I sat down and she and I started talking, on and on and on. Joe turns to his friend Lawrence and points to us and says, "That's the difference between men and women." I didn't have to ask what he meant.
 

We are very blessed to have many very close nonrelated family members. About a dozen or so from our racing days from many states including Canada. Most of them would drop what they're doing in a second with one phone call for help, and only question would be " Where you at and what do I need to bring." Our camping, cooking group has given us a few more.
 
I have 2 friends I used to go to school with. Meet for coffee occasionally., we're all in our 80's now. 4 Friends from way back in 60's, we all worked together in the same office., meet occasionally because we all live so far apart but always in touch via phone., all in our 80's. I am still in touch with my son's teacher from school, she is in her 70's now and still wants to know how her favourite student is. Old friends are the best because they are never judgemental and always interested in our lives, who knows how many years we have left?.
 
An old friend on Long Island sent me a Christmas email telling me how she read in her diary about the day we met in a pizza place when we were 16. That would be 71 years ago. Today is her 87th birthday. She took the ferry over to CT to celebrate with her family. Many fond memories.
 
I think you are exactly right, Inept. And there are many sociological reasons for this.

I agree with you. Individuals vary but in general women in my experience have wider social networks than men. Women interact collaboratively more often while men tend toward competition. In conversation women seek consensus while men argue over who is right. Women are more often able to ask for help while men strive to be independent. There are always exceptions but these are the trends I notice.
 
I had a few friends. They died. So I fight depression. I used to post here more and then I just stopped. I have a few friends up North but now I live in the deep south and travelling is hard for me. Nostalgia clings to me. I smell the nostalgia like sea kelp and saltwater breezes. There are some good people on this forum. I think I am ready to come back.

Aging in Minor Keys

I once imagined skies would burn for me,
Their molten songs ablaze with fierce desire.
But now my days are clouds that barely bleed,
A palette dulled, a smudge of ashen fire.

The roads I skipped are tangled, root-bound veins,
That feed some unseen heart beneath the earth.
My steps, instead, meandered softer plains,
A compass spun to comfort over worth.

Regret’s a ghost who murmurs through the glass,
Its breath a fog that fades with every blink.
I toast its shape with cheap and clinking brass—
Why mourn what’s vanished when there’s beer to drink?

The doors I closed are bells without their clappers,
Still swinging faintly in the dream’s dim rafters.
 
I had a few friends. They died. So I fight depression. I used to post here more and then I just stopped. I have a few friends up North but now I live in the deep south and travelling is hard for me. Nostalgia clings to me. I smell the nostalgia like sea kelp and saltwater breezes. There are some good people on this forum. I think I am ready to come back.

Aging in Minor Keys

I once imagined skies would burn for me,
Their molten songs ablaze with fierce desire.
But now my days are clouds that barely bleed,
A palette dulled, a smudge of ashen fire.

The roads I skipped are tangled, root-bound veins,
That feed some unseen heart beneath the earth.
My steps, instead, meandered softer plains,
A compass spun to comfort over worth.

Regret’s a ghost who murmurs through the glass,
Its breath a fog that fades with every blink.
I toast its shape with cheap and clinking brass—
Why mourn what’s vanished when there’s beer to drink?

The doors I closed are bells without their clappers,
Still swinging faintly in the dream’s dim rafters.

My situation is much like yours. I have a couple of friends up north and I am in the south and travelling is a thing of the past.
 
I had a few friends. They died. So I fight depression. I used to post here more and then I just stopped. I have a few friends up North but now I live in the deep south and travelling is hard for me. Nostalgia clings to me. I smell the nostalgia like sea kelp and saltwater breezes. There are some good people on this forum. I think I am ready to come back.

Aging in Minor Keys

I once imagined skies would burn for me,
Their molten songs ablaze with fierce desire.
But now my days are clouds that barely bleed,
A palette dulled, a smudge of ashen fire.

The roads I skipped are tangled, root-bound veins,
That feed some unseen heart beneath the earth.
My steps, instead, meandered softer plains,
A compass spun to comfort over worth.

Regret’s a ghost who murmurs through the glass,
Its breath a fog that fades with every blink.
I toast its shape with cheap and clinking brass—
Why mourn what’s vanished when there’s beer to drink?

The doors I closed are bells without their clappers,
Still swinging faintly in the dream’s dim rafters.
Beautiful poem. Did you write it?
 


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