Missed Connections

Over seventy years I have gathered a good many friends, but I cannot say I’ve held on to most of them. Life has a way of scattering people. What felt like lifelong bonds on the school playground dissolved once diplomas were handed out and jobs or college pulled us in new directions. Back then I assumed friendship was like family—once formed, it would always be there. But I’ve learned that friendships are often more like seasons: some long and steady, some brief and bright, each beautiful in its own time.

When you enter the workforce, the cycle begins again. Coworkers become daily companions—people you spend more time with than your own family. Some of them leave marks so deep that you imagine you’ll always remain close. But then jobs change, someone moves away, and the connections thin. For years I believed that effort—or perhaps guilt—should keep those ties alive. Yet what I see now is that friendship requires more than sentiment. It requires shared space, common purpose, and mutual desire to keep the thread unbroken. Without those, the cord frays.

I admit I haven’t been the best at maintaining ties. I can go months or even years without a call, then swoop back into an old friend’s life and expect things to feel the same. We hug, we laugh, we promise to do better. But we rarely follow through. And sometimes, when I do try to reconnect, life intervenes: illnesses, busy families, or a sense that our paths no longer align. At first I take it as rejection. Later, I realize it’s simply the natural flow of life. They haven’t betrayed me; we’ve just grown in different directions.

There’s another way to look at it, though. Perhaps friendship is not meant to be permanent in every case. Maybe its purpose is to give us what we need for a particular time, then release us to move forward. That doesn’t make the bond false; it makes it timely. And perhaps the real test of friendship is not its duration but the way it changes us while it lasts.

Technology today gives us chances our parents never had—social media, video calls, quick texts. And yet, I sometimes feel more disconnected than ever. A “like” on a photo doesn’t carry the warmth of a shared cup of coffee. So I ask myself: is it the technology that fails us, or is it that true friendship still demands the old-fashioned things—time, presence, patience—that can’t be replicated on a screen?

I started out thinking of this as a confession of guilt for not doing enough to keep friendships alive. But maybe it’s less about guilt and more about grace. Perhaps the best I can do is treasure the people who were part of my journey, honor the gifts they gave me, and remain open to new connections still waiting ahead. Life is not an endless chain of missed connections; it is a series of meaningful ones, some lasting, some brief, all part of the tapestry of a life well lived.