In every group of friends, there is one gravitational force. The introducer — planner — communicator — organizer. Call those the hubs. Everyone else is a spoke. Spokes attach to the hub and, through the hub, become related to each other. Often, spokes arrange in such a way where they develop deeper connections with other spokes than with the hub.

That is the way of life. My father was a hub. When he died, hundreds of spokes lost the centrifugal force of their social and professional lives. But my father left them all with shoulders to cry on — the other spokes in my father's network with whom they had developed deep personal relationships far beyond that which they had with my father.

Now that is a life well lived.