Pull Up a Chair: September 18, 2026

Pull up a chair and stay awhile. I have friends I can go weeks without talking to and then pick right back up as though we talked yesterday. Nobody starts the conversation with an explanation about where they’ve been. There isn’t a long apology because one of us didn’t return a text three Tuesdays ago. We just start talking.

Those are some of the easiest friendships I have. I don’t mean that we don’t care about one another or that we wouldn’t be there if something was wrong. We absolutely would. I mean we’ve reached the point where neither of us keeps score. Life gets busy.

Sometimes I’m buried in work. Sometimes family needs more of my attention. Sometimes I read a message while I’m doing something else, think I’ll answer it in a minute, and then remember four days later. Please tell me I’m not the only person who does that. The worst is when I’ve answered the person completely in my head. I know exactly what I was going to say. I’ve had the entire conversation as far as my brain is concerned.

Unfortunately, my phone has no record of any of it. Then I open the messages later and discover I left somebody sitting there waiting for an answer. Thankfully, the people who know me well know I’m probably not ignoring them. I’m just somewhere wondering why nobody responded to the message I never actually sent.

Friendship Looked Different When We Were Younger

When I was younger, keeping up with friends was easier in some ways. We were often in the same places. School put you together almost every day. Later, work did the same thing with some friendships. You knew what was happening because you were there for most of it. Then adulthood starts spreading everyone out.

People get married. They have children. They move. Jobs change. Parents get older. Grandchildren arrive. Somebody suddenly has a calendar that looks like they’re running a small country when they’re really just trying to get three children to three different activities.

Life fills up. You can love someone dearly and still realize you haven’t spoken to them in a month. I used to feel guilty about that. I’d think I needed to be better about calling or that too much time had passed and now it would feel awkward. It usually wasn’t awkward at all.

I’d finally call and within five minutes we’d be right back where we left off. That’s when I started understanding that frequency isn’t always the best way to measure a friendship. Some people can talk every day and still never really know one another. Other people can go a month without talking and know exactly who to call when life falls apart. I’ll take the second one.

I Don’t Want Friendship to Feel Like Another Job

I have enough things in my life that come with deadlines. Friendship shouldn’t be one of them. I don’t want someone I care about looking at the calendar and thinking, “Rita hasn’t called in twelve days, so clearly she doesn’t care about me anymore.” I also don’t want to do that to them.

There are times when one person has more room for friendship than the other. Maybe I’m having an easy month while my friend is dealing with something at work, taking care of family, or simply trying to keep her head above water. She doesn’t need me adding another obligation.

Call me when you can. Text me when you think about it. Send me a picture of something ridiculous you saw at the store with absolutely no explanation. I’ll probably understand why you sent it. That’s one of my favorite things about old friendships. You develop your own language. A photograph can be a whole conversation. One sentence can refer to something that happened fifteen years ago and still make both of you laugh.

You know which stories need the full version and which ones can begin with, “Well, you’ll never believe what happened now.” You already know the cast of characters. No background information required.

Sometimes a Random Message Is Enough

Not every conversation needs to be an hour-long phone call. Sometimes friendship looks like sending someone a recipe because you know they’ll like it. Or a picture of a dog that looks exactly like theirs. Or a screenshot accompanied by, “This made me think of you.” There doesn’t have to be a big conversation afterward. They might answer with a laughing face. That’s it. We’re still friends.

I actually like those little moments because they say something important without making a production out of it. Someone was going about their day, saw something, and thought of you. That’s nice. We’ve made communication so easy now that I think we’ve accidentally created an expectation that everybody should always be available. We carry phones everywhere. People can text us while we’re grocery shopping, eating dinner, working, sitting in a doctor’s office, or trying to watch television.

Because the message arrives instantly, we sometimes expect the answer to arrive instantly too. I don’t think that’s particularly fair. Just because my phone can reach me doesn’t mean I always have room for a conversation at that exact moment. The same is true for my friends. Unless something is urgent, I don’t need an immediate answer. If it is urgent, I’m probably calling anyway. And calling again. That’s how you’ll know.

Good Friends Understand the Season You’re In

There have been times in my life when I had much more freedom than I do now. There will probably be times in the future when life looks completely different again. The people who stay with us understand that. A friend taking care of small children may disappear for a while.

Someone building a business may have stretches when work takes over. Someone caring for aging parents may not be able to drop everything and meet for lunch. Someone going through a difficult season may not feel like talking much at all. That doesn’t mean the friendship disappeared. Sometimes being a good friend means not making someone’s difficult season about you.

You check in. You let them know you’re there. Then you give them room. When they’re ready to come back to the table, there’s still a chair waiting. I think that’s one of the kindest things we can give each other.

There Are Friends Who Know Too Much to Get Rid of Anyway

Let’s also be practical. Once someone has known you long enough, ending the friendship becomes a security risk. They know things, seen things. There may be photographs. At some point you simply have to agree to stay friends forever because neither of you can afford for the other one to start talking. I’m kidding. Mostly.

Long friendships come with a history that newer friendships simply haven’t had time to build yet. They knew you when your life looked different. They remember jobs you hated, people you dated, hairstyles you should never have attempted, and decisions that seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. They’ve watched you change. You’ve watched them change too.

I love that there are people in my life who don’t only know who I am now. They remember other versions of me. Some of those versions were questionable. A good friend doesn’t bring that up unnecessarily. A great friend waits until other people are around.

We Don’t Have to Talk Every Day to Know We’re There

The friendships I appreciate most now are the ones where both people know the door is open. We may not walk through it every day. That’s okay. If something wonderful happens, I know who I want to tell. If something terrible happens, I know who I can call. If absolutely nothing happens but I suddenly remember something funny from twenty years ago, I can send a message at a ridiculous hour and know they’ll understand. There isn’t a quota.

Nobody owes anybody three phone calls and seven text messages a week. We’re simply part of each other’s lives. I think that kind of friendship becomes easier to appreciate as we get older because we’ve stopped expecting every relationship to look the same. Some friends are the people you talk to every day. Some are the people you see once a month. Some live close enough to stop by. Others live far enough away that seeing them takes actual planning.

Some know every tiny detail of what’s happening in your life right now. Others may need a fifteen-minute update before the real conversation can begin. They can all matter. I don’t need constant conversation to know someone cares about me, and I hope the people I love know the same thing about me. Although if I’ve failed to answer your text for two weeks, you are allowed to send another one. There’s a very good chance I answered the first one in my head.