At the newspaper stand at rush hour in Grand Central station last night, I bumped into a very special male friend of mine from college. I hadn't seen him since he held my daughter in his arms, and I was living at my first apartment.

It was an instant reaction. I threw my arms around him.

There is nothing like the warm familiarity of an eternal friendship. A timeless hug. We shared a knowing belly laugh.

He asked about my ex-husband.

He told me he had seen me on TV along the way, and had meant to call me after my brother's death.

But he was rushing to make the next train and, in a flustered and pained moment, explained that he too had gotten divorced.

His now ex-wife apparently had something to do with his not keeping up his friendships over the years.

He was off to pick up one of his daughters, and he explained that things with his other daughter were challenging.

He had moved to an apartment.

He was clearly distraught and overwhelmed by his new, divorced lifestyle.

He said men really need help with this.

I said I know.

I told him that I could help.

We are going to talk again.