Reach out and touch someone

Windsor Park

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 26/02/2025 (451 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

When I was a young girl, I was fortunate to have lots of friends. I grew up in a tiny hamlet and attended a rural school that housed all students, from kindergarten to Grade 12, under one roof. Given the small number of students, it pretty much became the norm that every year all of us girls in the same grade would be invited to each other’s birthday parties and sleepovers – sometimes regardless of how well we may have actually gotten along with each other.

When I moved to the ‘big’ city of Winnipeg to attend university, some of those friendships fell away. Nevertheless, I had no trouble making new friends in university. As I got older, friendships continued to come and go. I sstayed in contact with a few friends from my childhood and university days, but found that the time between calls, texts and even seeing each other in person seemed to get longer and longer. While I still had no shortage of companionship, as I’m usually in close contact with family and enjoy amiable relationships with co-workers, I came to a growing realization.

I was lonely.

I missed the ‘remember when’ conversations that you can only have with someone who has known you for decades. I missed laughing over incredibly ridiculous things that would only make sense to someone who has seen you at your very worst. I missed sharing deeply heartfelt and meaningful talks with someone who you absolutely without-a-doubt know would take your secrets to their grave.

I missed my friends. The true friends, who were always there for me, not because we are related by blood or see each other every day at work, but because they actually care about me. This was a painful truth pill to swallow.

But swallow it I did, along with a healthy dose of pride. I contacted a friend whom I hadn’t seen or talked to in over a year. With heart in hand, I confessed that I had been thinking about her lately and that I missed her. A few days later we were on her couch, shrieking with laughter while our two teenage daughters looked at us like we had lost our minds.

And I could actually feel joy filling up the hole that loneliness had made. Because that is what friends are for.