Market Data 
I had planned to move back to my hometown of Boston from New York City in 2020 with my now ex-husband to be closer to family long before we knew what was coming with the pandemic. Once I was finally there, I found myself working from home, taking walks through my eerily quiet neighborhood, ordering lots of takeout, and wondering how I would ever make new friends.
With so many social activities canceled and public spaces closed, I started volunteering with FriendshipWorks, a nonprofit that pairs volunteers with older adults to fight loneliness and isolation. I was trained to chat with an older adult over the phone, considering it wasn’t currently safe to visit in person. I thought it sounded like a simple way to do some good in my new neighborhood.
But it turned out to be good for me, too. FriendshipWorks aims to address loneliness in older adults, but one-third of Americans are lonely, regardless of age. I know I was, with just a small social circle of family members and friends from growing up in the suburbs.
My match was almost 30 years older than I am
My phone calls with my match, Carolyn, started in September 2020 with small talk and getting-to-know-you questions. I learned she was approaching her 70th birthday and had moved to Boston almost 50 years earlier, following some of her older siblings from their home in rural Georgia. Her local siblings had all since died.
Due to a number of health challenges, she had difficulty leaving her house and grew tired easily when she did. Carolyn’s world was getting smaller, and one of her care providers suggested she contact FriendshipWorks to see if they could help.
We didn’t meet in person until June 2021, after we’d been speaking over the phone weekly for nine months. Shortly thereafter, even though COVID restrictions were slowly lifting and I was exploring more of the city, my world started getting smaller, too: My brother, sister-in-law, and newborn nephew moved from Boston to Cleveland shortly after my marriage unexpectedly ended. The reality of my move to Boston no longer looked like I had imagined it would.
Over time, we became genuine friends
That was also when my relationship with Carolyn shifted from a volunteer opportunity to a genuine friendship. When I felt most adrift, it was grounding to know I had our weekly visit to look forward to. She has always been open about her own losses, sadness, and loneliness. It gave me permission to be open about mine. We could easily talk about family, relationships, or politics for nearly an hour straight, not knowing where the time went.
Our unconventional friendship wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t decided to volunteer (and volunteering is a common recommendation to build social connection). We’re more than 30 years apart, as she’s 72 and I’m 38, we come from different parts of the country, and we have different religious beliefs and racial backgrounds. But we also have a lot in common; we’re committed to social justice, we love to laugh, and we deeply value our families.
Now, almost four years after our first phone call, we take slow walks around her neighborhood or sit in her backyard to enjoy the sunshine when the weather allows. Sometimes, we color, eat lunch together, or do some simple strength-training exercises in her living room, putting my personal trainer certification to good use. We gush over photos of my nephew and her great-great-nieces and nephews.
We only recently started hugging goodbye at the end of our visits. There was something about meeting for the first time during mask mandates and my responsibilities as a volunteer that originally kept us at a distance. But over time, we’ve let our guards down, welcomed each other in, and forged a lasting friendship that will benefit us both for years to come.
