Postscript: Reflections on circling
friendships and my 100-year-old grandmother

By Carrie Classon | Contributor | March 2025

Talking to a Friend
Yesterday, I got to talk with an old friend.

I used to see Cheryl almost every day but for the last several years we’ve seen each other once a year, at most. She’s going to direct my show, so we’ll be working together again. We had coffee and soup on a very cold day, and I had this strange feeling I had slipped back in time. I didn’t need to explain a thing, talking to this old friend. I knew her and she knew me, and I lost track of the number of times we finished each other’s thoughts.

“If we can’t find a chair that looks good…” I began.

“You could bring a throw to toss over it,” she finished.

“Exactly,” I said.

We did that all afternoon.

This is also the week my editor, Patty, is retiring. Patty has been editing my columns for most of the time I’ve been writing The Postscript. She’s repaired my fractured sentences and added literally thousands of missing commas to my writing, as she has for writers for the last 44 years, and if anyone deserves a restful retirement from all that bad punctuation, it is she.

I can’t imagine not talking with Patty every week because, although I’m sure she’s one of the best editors in the business, that’s not what makes her special. What makes her special is that every single week she says something nice about my column. There’s no need for her to do so, but it means the world to me and I will miss her terribly.

Yet I somehow feel that Patty will remain in my life, just as Cheryl drifted away for a bit and circled back. The people who are meant to be in my life have a way of staying there, in some form or another, sometimes taking a step back to make room for the new friends in my life.

And sometimes friendships end. I had a friend who ghosted me years ago. She did it three times and, finally, I decided I would stop reaching out to her except on her birthday. One year, on her birthday, she responded. She said she was sorry she had ghosted me. She said she had a lot going on in her life that made her anxious and insecure, and this was how she dealt with it.

I’ve learned that almost always, when people do something that hurts me, it has much more to do with their own hurts than with me. And those hurts were usually there long before I met them. We had a good time, while we were friends, and the memory of her leaving is forgotten, replaced by memories of the lunches and laughter we’ve shared.

Relationships change. One thing leads to another and, before I know it, I’m spending my time with new people, talking to new friends, without realizing how much has changed. I’ve met a couple of people in the last few months that I suspect (and hope!) will be my friends in the future. And I know, as I grow older, keeping in touch with old friends and making new ones is important.

My grandmother lived to be 100 and outlived all her old friends. So, she made new old friends. By the time she passed, many of her friends were closer in age to her children than to her, but she always seemed to have someone to talk to. And that is what matters.

We all need someone to talk to.

Till next time.

More Postscript coming soon!

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