Indigo Girls, Bonnie Raitt and Joni Mitchell on the radio, and suddenly I am catapulted to the early nineties and my friend Steve’s backyard in. More specifically swinging in a hammock with music bursting from speakers he’s placed in the open windows.

We practically live down the street from each other, but I never see him. How do we lose track of people and keep them at the same time? I text him and tell him what I’ve been hearing today, that it must be a sign that we’re due to meet for a drink soon. We’ll go to the same place – Cork Wine Pub in Pleasant Ridge – and sit at the bar and have a couple of glasses of wine and some snacks. We’ll catch up and say we should get together some time soon, but we won’t.

And then something will remind me of him, and we’ll be in touch again. Let’s be honest. I’m the one who stays in touch. 

My friend Rachel is moving back to Detroit after 30 years away. I wonder how our relationship will change. Will we start hanging out together? Will we drink tea in each other’s kitchens. Will we call each other when we need someone to talk to on a long walk? I have no idea. We left home for the same college but didn’t stay in close touch on campus. Then we lived in different cities for the last few decades and kept up with major events through occasional calls, texts and Facebook chat. She sends me a “Shabbat Shalom” Facebook message every week, along with others who receive similar messages. Do I stay on the list? Or do I move into a different category?

Amy lives in New York, and we speak on the phone several times a week. We met in the lobby of our synagogue 15 years ago, when she and her family moved to Michigan for a brief few years for a job opportunity. Our families have gone on vacation together ten years in a row, often to the region where Maryland, West Virginia and Pennsylvania meet. Our kids are heading off to college. They are the best of friends, but their schedules make it impossible to plan another family trip. I am terribly sad about this. And also resigned to the fact that we’ll have to find other ways to spend time together.

I love my friends. I am blessed to have enough of them that I dedicated a mile to each of 13 different women when I ran a half marathon in honor of Rachel’s daughter, a young cancer survivor, several years ago. They kept me going in the Miami sun that Sunday.

It’s so easy to lose track of people. Fortunately, it’s not that hard to pick them back up again. One day, I hope we’ll all grow old together.