Metrodad made me think of best friends today.

Over the years I have had a handful of best friends. My first best friend was a guy name Jesse Scrimscher (I have no idea if that’s how he spelled his name – it wasn’t important as a seven-year-old.). We had a fight one day and we left each other in a huff. Soon after, my mother announced we were moving. I didn’t get to say goodbye but saw him briefly when we came back to clean the house. I don’t recall ever seeing him again.

My second best friend was Jeff Lawton. We played baseball and kick the can and even dungeons and dragons. When we got to junior high we eventually grew apart. I don’t recall ever spending time with him in high school as we gravitated to other interest. He is now an air traffic controller (as I found out at my 10-year high school reunion – which was seven years ago) and I know little else.

My third best friend and someone who I still consider my best friend is Brent. We had beginning band together in seventh grade – both of us wannabe drummers – and we forged a friendship that remains strong to this day. We don’t live in the same city and we don’t talk very often but when we do, it’s like time stood still. There’s something comforting in knowing someone as well as I know Brent. He is one of the few people in this world where there is no pretense. I am me and he is he. We talk about everything and know that the other one will understand. It is a friendship nurtured through years of cheering each other on and being friends in every sense of the word. When I think of friendship, it is this barometer that everyone is measured by.

I will turn 35 years old next week. Almost four years ago I moved to where I live now, leaving behind my childhood friends. We knew exactly two people when we moved here and it has been a long hard struggle to establish new friends. And, I have learned something about myself in the process: I’m not good at making friends. While most would consider me an outgoing person, I find it incredibly difficult to initiate close, personal relationships. I wait for the moment to “click” when spending time with a potential friend and when it doesn’t come, I chalk it up to “not being compatible.” Perhaps my “Brent” standard is a bit high. Perhaps I need to remind myself that hours spent in drum practice or meeting in the early morning to ride our bikes to school or working in his family’s business forged a closeness that just can’t be duplicated with an occasional weekend with a new friend. I need to be in this for the long haul.

And as I begin to meet other dads, I am finding a fraternity of men that the only thing we have in common is our children. This is a time for me to step out of my comfort zone and reach out to become that outgoing person everyone thinks I am. This is my opportunity to be friends with other dads and one I just might enjoy.