A Friend With A Pen

We became 'friends' before Facebook and Instagram stole the noun and turned it into a loosely termed verb without substance. We became friends in a time when "www" wasn't a concept that could facilitate online associations. Instead, ours was a physical friendship that relied on pen and paper flown in long distance postal bags half way around the world. A friendship that was first sealed in an airmail letter in the summer of 1978. 

I was a 10 year who loved writing and craved to discover the world. One day in class, my teacher presented the concept of the international penfriend association and I eagerly completed the required form, requesting the maximum number of friends allowed - six in total. I ticked countries in Europe and afar and patiently waited responses from every letter I wrote.

Most of the pen pals fizzled out. Some after just a couple of letters; others survived a year or two. It was never me that bailed.

I wrote regularly to a girl in South Africa for a few years but her letters stopped abruptly with no explanation. I continued to reach out but no communication was ever reciprocated. It was during apartheid and I was always fearful something had happened to her. I never found out.

A girl called Sue from Adelaide, Australia was a committed penpal from the get go.

Together we found a gentle rhythm of a paper based friendship. We wrote most months - the simple chit chat of pre pubescent girls sharing the worlds we knew and curious for the worlds we didn't. We wrote on thin airmail paper. When we gravitated to proper paper with envelopes, we shared photographs and small gifts.

We talked of school, friends, family and holidays. Our birthdays were close together and cards requiring actual stamps were always sent. 

Since 1978, we've met in person five times, once for each decade of our friendship.

Our first meeting was in 1991 aged 23. We met in Piccadilly Circus and I shared my London life with cheap wine in my post student grungy apartment in Islington. Sue was mid travels with her boyfriend Sam; the man she would marry and make a life with.

There was a big gap till the next visit - a gap filled with two weddings, one divorce and five babies. In 2008, I took the train to London with a new born and six year old clinging to a pram to introduce our families ceremoniously under the iconic clock at Waterloo station. Five young boys between us, we shared a rambunctious lunch on the South Bank.

2012 and the Porters made another trip to London. This time we shared a family lunch in Bray and a visit to our UK home, marveling at how quickly our boys were growing before our eyes. 

2015 saw us together in pastures new - dinner in Santa Monica as California was now our home and Sue and family were passing through LA. Our boys and husbands embraced this unusual familial gathering, recognizing how special it was for Sue and I. 

Finally, in 2025, I sealed my promise to make it to Australia in our sixth decade. We spent a weekend together in Sue's home in Adelaide, sharing dinners with her now adult children and their partners. We reminisced and filled in the gaps that our less frequent adult communications had skipped over. 

Many have said it's amazing that our friendship has lasted. But it's not amazing; it's testament to believing in a friendship that can withstand time and distance. 

It's taken trust in each other - that no matter the timespan between communications, we will still be there. We don't judge our friendship in time spent together or who reached out last. It's irrelevant because we simply trust that we will always be there. 

Our friendship has not been one shared on social media. Instead, this weekend in Adelaide, we got to knit together all those snippets of life we've shared over 46 years. This was the longest time we've ever had together and we bedded in the knowledge and understanding of all our boys, shared our family histories and the routine and quirks of our day to day life. The picture for both of us became whole as I briefly lived Sue's life, in her home, alongside her family. No instagram reel needed to highlight our stories.

I flew back to Sydney ready for the long flight home to the USA in the knowledge that the expression "heart filled" has never been more genuine. Sue and I have cemented our friendship with enough love and understanding to withstand another 40+ years of distance.

How I would've loved to have told that curious little 10 year old who longed to travel the world that 46 years later, she absolutely would feed a wallaby, laugh at a nonchalant kangaroo and sip wines in the Adelaide hills with her Australian friend. A 10 year old friend who wanted to share her world with me as much as I with her.

As we sat in the sun and laughed together, sampling our final wine of the day in a beautiful Adelaide vineyard, I like to believe that both those little girls did know this would one day happen. At 10 years old, they instinctively knew that the world would be a better place when it's shared and that friendships aren't defined by time or distance. 

What they didn't know then was that those friendships that last a lifetime are the most precious of all.