Reasons, Seasons, Lifetimes

Reflections on the friendships we keep and the ones we let go

“It is hard for twenty children to stay together as friends for twenty years.” - Yoruba adage

I’ve been in a reflective mood this afternoon, stretching into evening, and my thoughts keep circling back to friendships. At nearly five decades on this earth, I’ve built several meaningful relationships, but I’ve also disconnected from some. I’m tempted to say I’ve lost them, but no - disconnected feels more honest. Some took a walk. I walked away from a few. Some, unfortunately, passed on to the great beyond. And others? I can’t even explain what happened.

I keep friends and nurture many of them with the sincerity of my heart. We don’t always see or talk, but when we do, we reconnect and seemingly pick up right where we left off. I don’t take my relationships lightly - I still have old emails and even some letters and artifacts from forty years ago. It matters to me that much!

But time has taught me that no matter what I do, some relationships aren’t meant to be forever. Some are there for a reason, some for a season, some to teach us a lesson, and yes, a precious few will last a lifetime. Wisdom lies in knowing which friend belongs to which group, and accepting their purpose when you finally see it clearly.

And yet, knowing this doesn’t make it easier. I do miss some of the relationships that are no more. Some people were bold enough to tell me to my face: “It’s over. We should just keep our distance.” Some reasons made sense. Others didn’t. And some weren’t bold enough or perhaps cared too much to explain, so they ghosted me. Eventually, chasing became too painful, so I took a walk. (lol)

Well, I’ve learned I can survive the endings. That I’m allowed to grieve and still move forward.

Now, I also know that when a relationship isn’t working and you’re clear-minded that you’ve done everything you can to keep it flourishing, don’t sweat it. Just move on. It may hurt, but your future self will thank you. We often understand life better by looking back.

My Yoruba ancestors knew: twenty children can’t stay together for twenty years. But the ones who remain? They’re worth everything.

Selah.

Dapo Bankole