Big Sister Says Being Friendly Should Be Taken Seriously

“I want you to write a column about friends.”

“Uh, OK,” I said, although wondering immediately whether a column like that would fly.

Little brothers, however, learn early in life to do exactly what their big sisters tell them. The dynamic never changes, even when they’re 48 and you’re 44. In my case, mine played school with me and helped me learn to read when I was 4 years old, so I’ve owed her for a long time.

She was phoning from her office in St. Louis and was deadly serious about wanting to talk about friends and what they mean in people’s lives. “When you think about what these kinds of relationships provide,” she said, “I want people to really think about what a valuable thing they have that they probably only think about in a time of crisis. People should be aware of that kind of thing.”

She’s thinking about things like this because she’s in a time of crisis. To the shock of all of us who thought we knew more than we actually did, her husband of 12 years decided some months ago that he didn’t want to be married to her anymore.

I don’t think any of us saw it coming. My parents had long considered him almost as another son. I saw him, if not as a second brother, at least as a trusted confidant. As recently as last fall, he and my sister were planning a European vacation.

And now, poof, he’s out of the picture.

As for my sister, she had many plans for her future but being single at age 48 wasn’t one of them. She vowed from the start that she wasn’t going to be crushed by it, and she hasn’t been. But she finds her emotions tumbling from time to time through that vast, dark space that engulfs our feelings when we open a familiar door and suddenly find nothingness on the other side.

But into that scary void, her friends have stepped.

She has always had friends. She’s never been a loner. But if I’m hearing her right these days, they were friends who were always there, in the sense that there is always air to breathe. That is, she appreciated their presence, but took it for granted.

Now, she talks about her friendships with near reverence, as if they’re as precious as air would be to one suddenly deprived of it for a short time.

Maybe that’s the silver lining, I suggested to her.

In other words, she lost something very valuable but came to appreciate something of near-equal value: the nature of selfless friendship.

Her conversation in recent months has been dominated with reports of her friends’ kindnesses. Not even the simplest acts escape her. A group from the office will call her to do something during the evening. Someone will invite her to spend a weekend in a cabin by a lake. Someone is always there to ask how she’s doing. Someone is willing to listen at those times when she wants to talk about how awful she feels.

She has said how genuinely moved she’s been that they all did their good deeds without solicitation and without asking anything in return. I’ve never heard her quite like this. She sounds like someone who has come back from a pilgrimage.

It isn’t just her own situation that prompted her thoughts about friends. She told of a man in her office whose college-age son broke his neck and was left paralyzed a few weeks ago. Almost immediately, friends began tapping into their network of acquaintances and within a couple of days raised thousands of dollars for the family’s medical bills.

My sister wrapped up our latest conversation by saying that, at minimum, she wishes the beneficiaries of every kind deed would take time “to think about how precious these people are to them. If nothing else, have your readers, before they go to bed tonight, make three phone calls and let their friends know how much they appreciate them.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I don’t have that kind of influence, but you get the idea. When she said it, it didn’t sound the least bit corny. She’s talking about not taking friends for granted and, beyond that, reflecting in these bad-news times on the good things that people are capable of.

Everyone in our family has been hoping that some good would come out of my sister’s current crisis. Our conversation the other day convinces me that something has.

Perhaps because I don’t have a wife and kids to deflect my attention, I’ve never been one to take friends for granted. I stay in touch with most old friends and don’t feel cheated in the number I have. I can match almost any personal crisis with a friend I could call.

It was great to hear my sister talk with such fervor about the importance of such things.

As little brother, it’s reassuring to see big sister still evolving, still learning, still teaching.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.