I have had many friends over my 50 years of life. In my mind, I live with all of these ghosts nearly every day. As a child, my mother would console my sadness at a loss of friendship by telling me that they were ‘just jealous’ and I needed to just move on. I never could manage to believe her. I once had a friend who liked me because I hired her for a job. I once had a friend who shared the joys and sorrows of motherhood with me. I once had a friend who sat next to me to cry after my baby drowned, and a friend who held my hand through a painful breakup with a lover. I once had a friend who spent hours and hours on the telephone with me. I once had a friend who shared new and fascinating music with me, exploring every nuance of instrument and vocal deep into the night. I once had a friend who loved my parents and understood where I came from because they came from there, too. I once had a friend who danced with me all night long to a 45 record on a po
