My friend, Julie, and husband, Irwin, are coming down in December and will stay nearby (he has a major cat allergy) at a motel. It is their first visit. I haven’t seen her in about three years during my last trip to New York before my venerable teacher, Sophie, died. I used to get to go to New York when Sophie was the reason because I knew I wouldn’t have her for very long. After she died, I sort of couldn’t justify the expense to Ed.

Julie and Irwin were both teachers. Julie is now retired and loving it. She’s even smaller than me. And really cute. I met her when we were both editorial assistants at Harper & Row in the early 70s. Most of my friends I met through work. Inese, I met through ballet. How else does one meet people? Please don’t say church.

One friend I inherited through childhood association. We were very close in young adulthood and still are although we are polar opposites politically and she has had a troubled life and has the hangover that comes from suppressed anger. I’ve learned to just listen and not try to make her feel better. When I have tried in the past, she has always insisted that there is no hope, and that making an effort is a losing proposition. Quite simply she doesn’t know how to function without the speciality of her anger giving her a reason to go on.

We were in music college together. She gave up her music long ago. Her daughter studied for a while and had some ability, but gave it up too because it was too much work and I think she was mainly doing it to please her mother.

I have Inese, who I met in the early 60s when I started going to ballet class. Inese is tall. I was mesmerized by her stunning looks. She had a Latvian accent and the body of a ballet goddess. Somehow we became friends, although many times, people with similar physical attributes are more likely to be drawn to each other. I have to guess it was partly my European sensibility. I have never quite fit into my Greek heritage or my American one. Caught between two cultures. Inese is retired from Chase Bank, lives an active New York life in a great neighborhood around the corner from Lincoln Center, sees all the new movies and ballets, mostly without company – she doesn’t mind. I have often stayed with her in her apartment during my visits. I have invited her down here repeatedly but she is reluctant. She will travel to Latvia with her sister, she will go to Club Med with her sister and friends, but she won’t visit. I am rather sure it is that if she visits me, she won’t be in a hotel but at my home, and that would put her in a position of being my guest and she doesn’t want to owe anyone. It’s okay if she treats me but not the other way around. I don’t understand it and don’t appreciate it. But we go back a long way. It is doubtful she will ever come.

I had a friend from the NYT Syndicate named Sally Ann. She is a Brit who was a journalist in South America, and wound up in mid-life at the Syndicate doing editorial work. We were close for a while and I still hear from her. But she is not a friend, much as I thought she was. Friends don’t drop you because you can no longer offer them a network of business contacts. She skipped my wedding dinner because of a journalist friend’s 50th birthday party where I am sure she thought she could meet people to help her along in her career. She did come to my retirement party – lots of NYT people there from the newspaper and the corporate offices. I’m sure you’re getting the picture.

I’m grateful for those friends who remain because of our personal connection. I feel blessed to have them.

xx, Teal