I seem to have hit a turning point in my life. The “marker” (if you will) is that I am apparently pissing off my friends to the point where they want to have nothing to do with me anymore.
This is a hard pill to swallow for someone who has spent his life making friends and working to cement those relationships over the years. I can’t tell you why or how this is happening, but I can offer some examples of how things have gone south in recent years. Since there are only two people I’m aware of who even read this blog, I’m not going to use pseudonyms. I won’t use last names either, but, should a mutual someone happen to stumble onto this page, they would be the only ones who would have a clue about whom I speak. Additionally, I’m not listing these persons in any particular order, oldest friend to newest friend, etc. I’ll speak about them as they occur to me. To begin, there’s …
… Scott. We became close friends in college (as of this writing, that would be some 58 years ago). All through school and well into our post-college careers, I considered him to be my best friend, having relegated Glenn (my best friend in high school) to a lower level since we never actually communicated after high school. Scott and I were best men at each other’s weddings. For many years after we each entered our respective ministries, we would spend vacation time visiting in their home(s) (they never seemed to have the opportunity to come visit us, but we always had a great time whenever we were together in Massachusetts or Maine).
Then, as the years passed by, his emails started coming less frequently. At times I would intentionally ask direct questions when I emailed him, but if he replied at all, it was usually a month or two later. Finally, I asked straight-out if something had happened to sour our friendship. He assured me that nothing of the sort was the case, which I accepted. However, it’s been weeks again since I last heard from him. If he doesn’t think our friendship has shriveled up, then I can only conclude that I must be way down his ladder of priorities. In the interest of full disclosure, I need to acknowledge that, lately, he has been deeply involved as a defender of pastors who have been brought up on charges within the United Methodist Church, which requires him to travel all over the country and which eats up a lot of his time. Also, his wife, Lin, is in seriously poor health, which also must consume a good chunk of his time every day. But I would think that somewhere in the span of months, there would be ten minutes available for him to shoot off a quick email to let us know how he and Lin doing. What did I do to piss him off? I have no idea.
And that’s the case with other friends who seem to have dropped me recently. I have no idea what I must have said or done that allowed them to leave me in their dust and move on, such as …
… Ken. Ken and I have known each other for over 50 years. We met during the earliest years of my ministry, when I was a student pastor for the Roebling (NJ) United Methodist Church. He’s a bit younger than I, but he and his fun-loving and somewhat offbeat friends and I seemed to hit it off well. Among other things that bound us together was a Super-8mm silent film that we all shot and titled, “No Traveler Returns” (it was intended to be a horror film that we shot in a local cemetery). Ken and I kept in touch for a while, then went our separate ways for the next several years. About eight years ago I found him again and learned that he had been selling cartoons to magazines and other publications. I needed an incentive to get back into cartooning, so I proposed that we have a gentlemen’s agreement to draw two cartoons each a week and send them to each other for comment. We randomly settled on Tuesdays for the exchange and have been doing so up until just a few weeks ago. Again, in the interest of full disclosure, it would only be fair to acknowledge some ongoing (and serious) health issues that Ken’s been dealing with, which have undoubtedly affected to some extent his ability to keep the two-a-week schedule. But this is one of those “vibe” situations, where I get the feeling that he’s no longer interested in the cartoon exchange, but doesn’t want to tell me, and so he just stopped communicating altogether. His is another case of my sending emails that elicit no response.
What is there about me that gets people to the point of not wanting to have anything to do with me anymore? I consider myself to be likable enough, and I understand when people are obliged to give more than usual attention to other demands in their lives (family members, their own health, etc.). As it happens, I’m now under an unwritten, but no less binding, obligation to take care of Evelyn from here on out, since she’ll need daily care of her irreversible colostomy. But I don’t see how that might become so major a demand that I couldn’t take a moment now and then to send a “Hi, how ya doing?” email to a few of my friends.
Ed. Ed and I met during my years in Mantua. He was a young priest appointed to the Trinity Episcopal Church in Wenonah, his first church. It wasn’t long before we were meeting regularly for lunch and sharing jokes with each other. Even after I retired and moved to Delaware, and then after he moved to North Jersey, we still found a day now and then to meet at the Hollywood Diner in Woodbury Heights where we had enjoyed so many lunches before (and which, Providentially, turned out to be exactly halfway between our current homes). I think Ed “lives” mostly on Facebook these days, and I have admitted to being the World’s Worst Facebook Checker, so perhaps I’m the one who’s falling down on my end of the friendship bargain. However, Ed’s one of the people who receives my “Monday Morning Mailing” (a. k. a. the “MMM”), and so he’s able to keep up on a regular basis with what I’m doing. It could well be one of those cases where more time goes by than he realizes. Maybe he keeps telling himself to drop me a note, but then doesn’t ever seem to have the time. All are guesses, since I don’t know for sure, but it’s been a very long time since I’ve heard from him. Sad, considering how much we enjoyed sharing jokes and ministry “war stories” back in the day.
John and Ruthie. Evelyn and I met this couple when we were all shopping for our homes. John and Ruthie had bought their double-wide from the same company we bought our home. One day Evelyn and I had come down to Dover to check out the house, which was being stored on the manufacturer’s lot before being delivered to Fox Pointe. John and Ruthie were also there. Long story short, we not only hit it off, ending up in the same neighborhood, but we’re only about five houses apart from each other. Granted, they would come to visit us more than we would visit them, but a few weeks ago, it seemed the brakes were slammed on our friendship. From what I can figure, John has become suspicious of everyone (I’m not even going to try to offer an explanation), and so he apparently doesn’t like me anymore. There has been a period of several weeks of cold silence from down the street, so I texted John about ten days ago to bring him and Ruthie up to date with Evelyn’s hospitalization. He never replied. So I texted Ruthie two days later to let her know I had contacted John and hadn’t heard back. Nothing. So I finally decided to write a note of apology for whatever it was they think I said or did, or what Evelyn may have done or said, and offered the hand of peace by assuring them that our door would always be open to them. I haven’t heard so much as one word from either of them.
What did I do?? Why do people suddenly decide to cut me off without so much as a good-bye? I’m left sitting there staring into the icy cold silence they leave behind with no idea of what happened. Did they not value our friendship enough to offer an explanation?
Mike. OK, I can give Mike a pass. He lives alone across the street from us since his wife died over a year ago. Mike’s lonely and probably a bit angry, so he doesn’t really socialize with many people yet. While he and I can still converse, should we happen to meet spontaneously, I can tell that being friendly toward me isn’t a high priority for him. Recently I saw him as I was walking Evelyn’s service dog, Kianna. Evelyn was either in the hospital or the rehab center (can’t remember which). He asked me how things were going, and I started to fill him in on Evelyn. “That’s OK,” he said, “I’m not interested.” I understand that he may harbor an underlying resentment toward those of us whose wives are still here, but, if it were me, I’m sure I would have wanted the other person to share their news with me. Mike didn’t find it difficult at all to tell me not to go there.
Frank. I wouldn’t consider Frank so much a friend, per se, as someone with whom I became friendly. He lived here in Fox Pointe before moving to an apartment in Dover. He had lived with his mother before she passed away and stayed in the house for a few years after that. Frank has multiple health issues, including an intolerance for most foods (his digestive system can’t process foods that aren’t pureed). As a result, he’s all skin and bones. On top of that, his family has all but disowned him for reasons I’m not aware of, and he misses his mother terribly, so the result is that he feels pretty much alone in the world, just the kind of person I try to bolster a bit. I hadn’t heard from Frank for a few weeks, so I called him the other day. I thought he’d be happy to hear from someone. Instead, he reamed me out! “Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you in so long; I thought something might have happened to you. I told your daughter to have you call me, but you never did.” And so on and so on. So much for thinking I was going to brighten his day. It turned out to be one more exhibit to prove that in my declining years, I’m apparently better at pissing people off than I am at maintaining friendships.
I do know that keeping friendships healthy takes work. There has to be some level of communication that tells the other person you’re still interested in keeping the friendship going. I try my best to keep in touch with everybody I know, but it seems that my making contact with most of them just annoys them.
Perhaps it will be my fate/destiny/predestined life’s conclusion to die friendless. At least when my last friend drops me, I’ll have an idea of how much longer I’ll have in this world.