One of my best friends is fond of saying that there are friends who come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Today I want to consider those who fall in my lifetime category.

I have been blessed to have met a few of these kinds of women along the way, women who have come to me for a lifetime.

One of my best friends lives in Portland. We met while walking our dogs 15 years ago. Over the years we haven’t talked as much as we used to. But we still sneak away for weekends when we can, staying at a hotel and talking for 48 hours. When life is cruel, she is often the first phone call I make. I can tell you now she will always be in my life. And since she is a therapist by profession, I often jokingly say that I must have done something right in my life to have found her, while endlessly circling the park with my dog long ago.

Another one of my best friends is my sister. She lives in Seattle, so I get to see her more often. She and I were inseparable as kids, making plays, writing songs, talking late at night. Somehow, here we are at middle age, still the best of friends. My mother often says that one of her proudest accomplishments was to raise two children who turned out to be best friends as adults. When my spirits are low, I call my sister. There is no need for words. There is no need to dress it up or apologize for whatever I do. There is only acceptance and understanding from this person who knows me as well as I know myself. What a wonder to have that.

Another friend is newer to me. She lives on the Island, and I have only known her for three years. But from the moment I met her, she has supported me. As I struggle with money or a parenting decision or finding a job (my current challenge), she is there to offer comfort and support, to listen and to give advice. And she manages to do this while having an amazingly complicated and successful life on her own account, supervising many people, running an organization, being a mom.

I wonder how she finds time in all her challenges and juggling balls to stop, take a breath, and e-mail me to check on how I am feeling. She has listened to me while on vacation, returned calls late at night. I could not survive some of the challenges I have had without this person across the table from me, supporting me and telling me better days are ahead. Again, I must have done something to deserve it.

Frank Sinatra sang that “Life is like the seasons, and after winter comes the spring.” He knew life could be challenging and you could be down. But times will be good again. For me it has been a hard few months. And I know I could not have handled them and kept breathing if there weren’t women to turn to.

So that leads me to the question of our children. I would love to say their lifetimes will be full and happy and they won’t face tough times. But I know that isn’t true. Life can indeed be tough, and there will be challenges, tragedies, even economic downturns. How can I best help them on their road? How can I best prepare them for what is to come?

I believe I can help them by showing them the power of friendship in our lives. I can help them by telling them the balm that friends can provide when life hurts. I can show them that it is OK to need people and OK to be lifted up by talking to friends. And I can show them that you always are there when someone needs you.

One time, in college, I apologized to a new friend who I was leaning on. It almost felt unseemly, how much I was relying on his advice and strong shoulder. He wrote a note to me while we studied in the library late one night. “Never be afraid to lean on someone. Never turn someone away who needs to lean on you.”

I would like to think that 2010 will improve for us all. We will overcome tragedies around the world. Our economy will even out. We will find jobs, emerge from this tough winter and be stronger. 

And when those times are here, I tell myself, I will be the one who lets people lean on me. I will be here to listen, support and comfort others when they are low. I will be the one who buys the sushi or the coffee or the weekend at a hotel. It is the very least I can do after a season of leaning.

A part of me wants to call my beloved women friends and tell them this. I want to tell them how I appreciate the comfort of women friends and tell them I will be here for them when they need me.

But somehow, I think they already know.

— Lauri Hennessey can be reached at lauri@hennesseypr.com.