My son has a friend he met two summers ago at a week-long summer camp. Our families live on opposite sides of town, their house perched at the edge not only of our city but seemingly the edge of the continent, looking out over a span of water that feeds into the Pacific Ocean. The boys go to different schools, are in different sports, and last summer their camp schedules didn’t align. So they’ve seen each other just a handful of times – birthday parties, some afternoon-long play dates, but that’s it.
Yet these two boys were instant friends, a buddy version of love at first sight.
Friends like some of my lifelong friends, where it must be pheromones or chemistry or something because without having the time to know someone or to build shared experiences, the connection is undeniable and unbreakable.
My son lights up at the mention of his friend’s name, and the second they are together, they are off – either building, running, shooting, rock scrambling, tossing things, developing and inhabiting an ever-changing fantasy world. They compromise, share, take turns following and leading. Their ideas and laughter build off one another, combine and swirl and head in new directions. Two distinct identities who temporarily form a double helix.
It’s coming up to Spring Break, and I thought it would be a perfect time to try to get the boys together. I asked my son if he would like that, and his eyes got large and if a whole body can smile, that’s what his did, before his “Yes!!” of several syllables rang out. I contacted the friend’s Mom to see if she thought her son would like to get together again, but left it tentative, to give the Mom and her son a way to say that it wasn’t quite right – it’s been months since they last saw each other, not since the beginning of the school year back in Fall – perhaps he wouldn’t want to see my son, perhaps he’d outgrown him, or didn’t really remember, or just grown disinterested in the friendship over the year.
But his Mom told me that her son holds a space in his heart/mind for mine, and that even though they don’t get together often, he still considers him a good friend. “My son is a loyal friend,” she said.
I love that a Mom would not just say this about her child, but would know it. What a fabulous trait to have at such a young age: loyalty. I’d have said the boys fell in love, in the purest form of love that transcends gender and age. They fell in love, and remain in love. But by calling their bond a form of loyalty, she brings attention to perhaps the most important aspect of friendship and loving relationships – loyalty – the string of acts and choices we make to elevate one person over another, to prioritize that person even if we are in a life filled with other tasks, that we uphold our bonds even when it would be easier to let them go.
Oh, what a lucky boy my son’s friend is. He’s being recognized for his capacity to be loyal. Combined with bravery, the capacity for love, diligence, and honesty, loyalty completes the set of traits boys must master in order to become good men.
So here’s to two boys who are on their way.
My son is a loyal friend.