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Welcome to my little corner of the ether. This is where you will find information about my books and musings on life and love in New York City. To stay in the loop about all things ADR...

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I have wonderful friends. I've collected them over the years and I hold them dear. I think about them, where they are, who they've become. I miss them. Something about adulthood, about parenthood, makes it hard to see them and talk to them as much as I'd like.

I think I'm a pretty good friend. A thoughtful one. But something has occurred to me recently. I've realized that I am a really good friend during the best times, and worst. I tend to be around, and available, to my friends when they are experiencing true joys - engagements, and weddings, and babies, and professional successes. Or. Or when they are suffering, really suffering. When they are dealing with sickness, or heartbreak, or loss. I am proud of my ability to be there for my friends when they really need support.

But am I good friend during the regular times, the times that are neither triumphant nor tragic? I don't know. These tend to be the quiet times in my friendships, the times when days and weeks and months slip by without true contact or connection. These tend to be the times when laziness - or is it just real life? - takes over. I don't know. But I think it is worth thinking about. Because maybe, just maybe, it is these "normal" times when friendship matters most?

What, really, does it mean to be a good friend? Do you think that there is something about adulthood and/or parenthood that makes maintaining friendships much harder?

"Read Everything, All The Time"

Her First Day