Genuine Friendships
Genuine Friendship
While walking around Sidie Hollow yesterday with Jerri, I said, “Okay, your turn. I’ve talked more than halfway around today.”
But Jerri was having none of it: “You're fine—I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.” And on we walked, comfortably talking back and forth the rest of the way around the lake and afterward, over lunch.
Almost five years ago, Jerri and I started meeting once a month. We’ve known each other for eighteen years and have always considered ourselves friends, but it wasn’t until she’d experienced a sudden family trauma that we started having monthly walks and talks.
At first, Jerri would do most of the talking. Often she’d cry, and once she screamed. The anger, sadness, and intense grief had to come out. As Jerri allowed me to witness her pain, I began to understand the trauma of sudden death.
As the months turned into a year, our “dates” evolved into a heartfelt give-and-take friendship. Occasionally, we’d go out for lunch, try different trails in different areas, and even go Amish shopping when my hip was hurting too much to walk. Jerri was easy to bounce ideas off of and seemed as excited as I was to spend time together.
Then suddenly, my granddaughter was killed. I canceled a few dates, but Jerri understood. When we resumed our monthly outings, I talked more, and Jerri was happy to listen. She’d have been fine if I’d started screaming.
It was helpful to share with someone who knew the depth of grief I was feeling. Jerri was able to give me insight into how I could best support my daughter. Sometimes I’d come home excited to look up a book Jerri had recommended, and many times I’ve added our time together to my nightly gratitude list.
After yesterday’s hike at Sidie, I told Jerri about some research I’d done for a work project, regarding relationships, connections, and friendships. One thing I learned was that in 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General warned that loneliness and social isolation can affect our lifespan as much as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.
Even more interesting to me was the 11-3-6 rule of friendship, which suggests that it takes a minimum of 11 interactions of at least 3 hours each within a 6-month period to transform an acquaintance into a genuine friend. All my monthly dates with Jerri had indeed strengthened our friendship, and we agreed that the word “genuine” fit perfectly!
According to the 11-3-6 rule, we need consistent, repeated contact, often involving different settings, in order to build trust, familiarity, and deeper connections. Sometime after COVID, I began specifically inviting other friends out too. Setting a regular time to get together with people and turning monthly dates into adventures has become one of my greatest joys.
Monthly outings with friends have included salt cave explorations, palm reading, Devil’s Lake excursions, paddle boats, flying, hikes up the steepest hills in La Crosse, and bike rides in many places, from state trails to the roads in my neighborhood. I’m looking forward to an overnight soon in Madison to bike around Lake Monona with two of the people I’m currently “dating.”
Jerri wasn’t lonely before we began getting together. She has a lovely network of friends, and so do I. Yet there’s something magical about all the time we spend together. Not too long ago, when she became triggered over an event that was on the news, we met at a local restaurant. By the time we left, she felt calmer. At the beginning of this week, I messaged her, saying, “I’m so stressed!” Our walk was just what I needed.
One of my favorite dates with Jerri was going to White Mound County Park. After enjoying lunch in Richland Center, we wound our way through old-growth woods and over the dam as we walked the perimeter of the lake.
When we’re outdoors and moving, our conversations seem to flow as freely as the lake or stream we’re walking next to. Thanks to Jerri freely sharing her experience of how sudden trauma affected her and her family, I’ve been able to process how my dad’s sudden death, along with those of my friends DJ and Pat, and now Helena, have affected me.
Not all monthly dates with Jerri or other friends involve intense conversation. We also spend time observing nature, naming the wildflowers, or stopping to watch the trout swim in Maple Dale Creek.
But the ones I remember best are the ones when Jerri shares intimately and I listen, and then I share my deepest thoughts and she listens. No advice. No platitudes. Just a genuine, loving, and caring friendship.
