The Gift of Friendship
Recently, my friend Gabrielle, whom I have known for more than forty years, became seriously ill. It happened suddenly. At first, we were told she had contracted a rare virus. Despite trying several antibiotics, nothing seemed to be working. Eventually, the medical team began treating her with a combination of antibiotics used for Legionnaires' disease, and thankfully they slowly began to see signs of improvement.
There were still moments of great uncertainty. Her oxygen levels remained dangerously low, and we were told she might need to be placed into an induced coma while her body fought the infection. It was an anxious time for everyone who loves her.
Family and friends took turns visiting so that she would always know someone was there beside her. Because of my own health, I wasn't able to visit, but I left messages each day for the nurses to read to her. I apologised for adding to their workload, but one wonderful nurse reassured me.
"Knowing people are thinking of her and hearing familiar voices helps. It reminds her she's not facing this alone."
Thankfully, after weeks of uncertainty, Gabrielle slowly regained her strength. She is now home, still tired and recovering, but thankfully moving in a much healthier direction.
Watching everything unfold made me stop and reflect on friendship.
Over the years, I have known many people, but I can count my truest friendships on one hand.
When I first met Gabrielle, we were both at a time in our lives when we were searching for something deeper. Neither of us realised then that we were beginning a friendship that would span more than four decades.
One of the first things I admired about Gabrielle was her ability to think for herself. She listened to other people's views without being swayed by gossip or judgement. She remained true to her own values. The first time I witnessed that, I remember thinking, this is someone I can trust.
If you asked Gabrielle, she would probably tell you she recognised something similar in me. Without realising it, we were recognising in each other qualities that mattered deeply to us both—honesty, loyalty, kindness, respect, and the freedom to simply be ourselves.
Over the years, Joanna also became part of that friendship, and part of my family. Looking back, I realise that each of my closest friendships has enriched my life in its own unique way.
With Gabrielle and Joanna, I have experienced friendships built on an extraordinary depth of loyalty and trust. More than forty years later, that bond remains as strong as ever, and is something I treasure deeply.
With Jan, Connie, and Janet, I have been blessed by their kindness, love, encouragement, and unwavering support. Throughout my cancer diagnoses, surgery, and treatment, their friendship has been a constant source of strength.
What touches me most is that every one of these friends has been facing challenges of their own, Cancer, MS, the pain of Bereavement. Yet none of them has ever lost the ability to reach out with kindness, offer encouragement, or simply let me know they are there.
To me, that is friendship at its very best.
As I have grown older, I have also realised that having a large circle of people around us does not necessarily mean we have friendship. It can take courage to acknowledge that we cannot truly be ourselves within a group, and courage again to step away from it.
To me, a handful of genuine, loyal friends has always been worth far more than belonging to a crowd where we feel we have to hide parts of ourselves or become someone we aren't. True friendship allows us to relax into who we are. We don't have to perform, pretend, or constantly seek acceptance. We are valued simply for being ourselves.
Sometimes within a group, we can begin to dim our own light simply to fit in. We may find ourselves going along with behaviour that doesn't sit comfortably with us, overlooking belittling comments, or staying quiet when our values tell us otherwise. Over time, that can take us further away from who we really are.
There is a difference between belonging and simply fitting in. When a group becomes controlling, when people are diminished rather than encouraged, or when being accepted depends upon becoming someone we are not, perhaps the real courage lies in recognising that we no longer belong there.
I think there comes a stage in life when quality matters more than numbers, and being real matters more than being accepted. We become less willing to pretend that something feels like friendship simply because we have known people for a long time or belong to the same circle.
We may also begin to recognise that continually accepting controlling or belittling behaviour can allow it to continue.
Real friendship should never require us to become smaller so that someone else can feel bigger. It should give each person the freedom to be themselves, while encouraging one another to grow.
Looking back, I realise my own experience reflects what research has been telling us for many years. It is not the number of friends we have that matters most, but the quality of those relationships. Studies consistently show that people with a small circle of close, trusted friends tend to enjoy better emotional wellbeing, greater resilience during difficult times, and even improved physical health and longevity.
More than two thousand years ago, Aristotle described the deepest friendships as those based on virtue—friendships rooted in mutual admiration of one another's character. Looking back, I believe he understood something that remains just as true today. The friendships that sustain us are built on trust, loyalty, kindness, respect, and shared values.
One example that has always touched me comes from Okinawa in Japan, one of the world's recognised Blue Zones where people often live exceptionally long lives. Many belong to lifelong friendship groups known as moai—small circles of trusted friends who support one another throughout their lives. They celebrate together, help one another through hardship, and remain connected for decades. It is a beautiful reminder that friendship is not simply about companionship; it is about belonging.
Perhaps that is why friendship has such a powerful effect on our wellbeing. Feeling understood, accepted, and supported eases our worries, strengthens our resilience, and reminds us that we never have to carry life's burdens completely alone.
As I watched Gabrielle slowly regain her strength, I realised once again how fortunate I have been.
I can count my closest friendships on one hand, but each one has enriched my life beyond measure. They have stood beside me through joy and heartbreak, celebrated my successes, carried me through my struggles, and reminded me that I have never truly been alone.
Over the years, I have come to believe that loyalty is one of the greatest gifts we can give one another. It says, "You matter to me. I will stand beside you, not only when life is easy, but when it becomes difficult." That has always been at the heart of my friendship with Gabrielle, and it is something I have treasured more with each passing year.
Looking back now, I realise that friendship is not simply something that enriches our lives.
In many ways, it helps sustain them.