Old Friends

That's my friend on the right, and her two kids, and devices. Fun.

I have never been the nostalgic type because (I think) the trajectory of my life's experiences has consistently arced towards the better. It's funny, now that I'm sixty, to find myself getting misty while remembering certain eras. It's a sweet surprise.

It's on my mind because I spent the day with an old friend, someone I haven't seen since my days at the San Francisco Symphony during the late 1980s and early 90s. We fell in together today as if it had only been a matter of a year or two since we sat down, as we used to, for Bombay Sapphire martinis, cheeseburgers and hot fudge sundaes.

We humans get so close to each other, we let each other in. Sometimes, even when we don't mean to, our hearts open and there we are, as tight as peas in a pod. This is one of my favorite things about human beings; we are devout!

I cherish my heart connections with nears and dears, also with far-flungs. I cherish the durability of some of those connections, the resilience therein. Love is really powerful!

Recently I learned it's not only possible to stay closely related over long periods of time, but it's also possible to become strangers again, even in the aftermath of having shared the metaphorical pea pod of closeness. That last bit is as encouraging as the knowledge that some people will be my friends to my dying day.

It's still cold in DC. The cherries are nowhere close to peak. It might sleet tonight, or even snow. OK. Seriously, I'm OK with it because spending the day with my old buddy and her kids warmed my heart. It was a wonderful day.

At the Natural History Museum. It was mayhem in there with the crowds. But we had fun.