Gill writes:
The Ancient Greeks were fascinated with love and believed that there were 8 types:
Agape – unconditional love
Eros – romantic love
Philia – affectionate love
Philautia – self-love
Storge – familial love
Pragma – enduring love
Ludus – playful love
Mania – obsessive love
Friends – for whom we have ‘philia’ – take on a new significance in our teenage years. Friendships become more intense, important and supportive. They become the first people you turn to when things aren’t going right, and the parent or carer might feel relegated to looking on from the sidelines.
It’s within these relationships and groups that we learn more of our identity, of what we value, and of what we believe in. They are a fundamental aspect of our human development and it’s probably when we begin to realise that we want to love and protect others who are not part of our ‘family’ or those we’ve been brought up with.
This song reminds me so much of one of my teenage mates. For about 3 years, we were pretty inseparable. We hung out at school, at youth fellowship, at the pub, in each other’s bedrooms. We went to MAYC London weekends, parties of every kind and she was the first person I went on holiday with ‘sans parents.’ We were more like sisters than friends.
And this was the theme song for our friendship (well – ‘Words’ by FR David figured for a bit but I’ll sweep that under the carpet). It was the backdrop to hair-styling, layering on make-up and the amateur fashion show that took place in many an 80’s teenage bedroom.
Thanks to the recently-released film ‘Belfast’ directed by Kenneth Branagh, ‘Everlasting Love’ has crept back into my consciousness (and playlist) – and that sense of philia returned with it. I am forever thankful that this friendship existed when it did, and the first couple of lines had a particular meaning then and now.
Hearts go astray, leaving hurt when they go
I went away just when you needed me so
Filled with regret I come back beggin’ you
Forgive, forget. Where’s the love we once knew?
My friend used to belt out these words so her Mum ‘could hear them in heaven.’ The regret she carried, you see, is that each day when her Mum was terminally ill, she would pop in to say ‘goodbye’ before she went to school. The only time that she didn’t say goodbye was the day that her Mum died. The act of saying goodbye for my friend became incredibly important – in fact, one time she phoned me up when I’d got in from a night out to say that she couldn’t sleep because she’d forgotten to say ‘goodnight’ to me earlier.
Her regret at not saying goodbye taught me the value of saying ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to people, but especially ‘goodbye.’ My inner word geek is particularly excited by the idea that ‘goodbye’ is a contract version of ‘God be with you’ – so as you’re waving someone off, you’re asking God to be with them too.
Ironically, I never got to say goodbye to my friend. College went and working life came; new friendships and relationships swept in and our worlds moved apart. I found out that she died when she was 37 so I guess I can’t wish her ‘goodbye.’
Instead, I sit with great memories filled with philia that will last forever – and this cracking song about ‘Everlasting Love.’ Goodbye Pam.


