This is about friends. As I get older I try not to take anything for granted and, for the most part, think I’m doing a pretty good job with that. But friends are in a special category and I consider myself quite fortunate to have the friends I do.

The call from someone is just a call, but the call from a friend – a good friend – at any time of day or night is the call, whether it’s 3 p.m. or 3 a.m., and you’re happy to answer and hear that familiar voice of your friend on the other end. You can laugh at, criticize, cajole, disagree with a good friend. They understand and will give it right back and, then, moments later, you’ve moved on and you’re catching up on each other’s news or planning your next get-together.

The other day I was talking to a new acquaintance. We had only just met, but right away I could tell I liked this guy. He was passionate, sincere and had a good sense of humor. I mentioned something to him about my good friends when he stopped for a moment and said, tearfully, my two best friends are gone…boy, do I miss them.

He described how they could talk about anything – politics, race, religion – and often disagree. But they had great respect for each other and, when the discussion was over, put their differences aside. How can you measure the importance of that kind of a relationship?

I’m pretty sure you can’t. And I’m more than sure I’ll never take my good friends for granted.