‘Friends’ matter in time

New connection at class reunion

The phenomenal Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist Mary Schmich penned an article in The Chicago Tribune in November 1997 about friends with a little “f” and friends with a big “F.” She listed attributes of each, writing that little “f” friends are a large group with sloppy admission standards, friends who don’t know your parents’ first names, wonder about your romantic history, and feel like a guest in your home.

Big “F” friends, however, are an elite crew of people who have your parents’ phone numbers, could blackmail you with your romantic liaisons and prop their feet up with a drink they got from your refrigerator.

I have many friends, and I’ve been blessed with more Friends than I deserve. I have girl Friends and guy Friends — and my stance in the “When Harry Met Sally” film debate about whether men and women can actually be “just friends” is emphatically YES.

One of my favorite features of the big “F” friend society is the ability to fully communicate without having to actually say much. A glance. A nod. An email with a picture that perfectly encapsulates what you’re thinking. A text that reads “Skylight 730” and your response of a thumbs-up being all that is needed to set up a movie date. These Friends play Pictionary well together.

Last weekend, Trapper John accompanied me to my 30th high school class reunion. Just WRITING that word — 30th! — makes my head involuntarily move from side to side. I cannot believe that it has been 30 years since I graduated high school. Even harder to believe is that I’ve known some of these “kids” for 43 years, having gone from kindergarten through senior high together.

Many people don’t attend their class reunions for a variety of reasons, whether they didn’t have a good experience back then and don’t care to relive it now; they have more pressing commitments; they feel poorly about themselves; they keep in contact with those they care about; etc.

But for those of us who regularly gather at our class reunions, whether we were big “F” or little “f” friends in high school, there is no denying the sense of becoming big “F” friends now. In past years, the DJ and liquor were key aspects of the gathering, and we danced and partied like teenagers. This time, while libations still flowed and the DJ still played, the group gravitated toward a side room where it was quiet, and we talked. We talked for hours on end. We reminisced about old times and shared new stories. Spouses heard things they couldn’t believe were true about the persons they married from folks who knew them “back when.” We re-created yearbook photographs. We thanked classmates for being kind, and apologized for times when we weren’t. We raised a glass to those we’ve lost.

And at the end of the night, the room hushed. Like children in a classroom, we sat side by side, this goofy crew of big “F” friends, savoring new good old days with each glance and nod.