Seven years went by without any contact. The hurt was still there - a dull ache that reasserted itself often, sometimes when I'd least expect it. A song on the radio...a funny card...a glimpse into their lives via a mutual friend's Facebook post.
On a Saturday in November, 2012, Ron, Tyler and I ventured downtown to the West Bottoms to scour the eclectic collection of vintage-stuffed warehouses open the first weekend of each month. (If you've never been, you MUST go...food vendors, new merchandise every month and a guaranteed walk down memory lane as you see stuff from your childhood that you'll immediately wish you'd kept).
Anyway, we were wandering through Good JuJu and Ron came up behind me and whispered, "They're here." I knew immediately who he was talking about, and my heart started racing a mile a minute. My first thought was "Don't lose it, don't lose it." I'd thought about this moment many, many times and was quite certain I would just fall to the floor in an awful mess.
But, I didn't. We greeted each other with hugs and spent a good while talking. It was a perfect place to have this chance encounter (aside from the place being called Good Juju - I knew juju, good or otherwise, had anything do to with it; there was a far greater presence at work) - public, crowded, low stress, perfectly timed. I did tear up a bit when I spoke with my friend briefly about her mom. We promised to get together soon.
A week later, my friend and I sat in our living room and talked for probably a good three hours. We talked about our kids, our husbands, our parents...and she shared with me the story of her mom's final days. Something she hadn't shared with anyone. Ever.
In that moment I knew that God had repaid the years the locusts had eaten (Joel 2:25).
It was as if no time had passed. Soon the four of us were sharing meals together, hitting the West Bottoms, and spending much time reflecting on the journeys our lives have taken.
This past summer, Ron and I traveled to St. Paul to witness their daughter's wedding...it was mercifully sweet.
A few months later, we grieved together at the passing of another parent, so grateful for the opportunity to support and love on them in person.
At Christmas both families reunited for hours of talking, eating, laughing and sharing.
I'd always loved our gatherings in the past...now I cherish these moments, knowing that we've all been given a gift of a lifetime...that cliched second chance. Cliche or not, it's not to be underrated.
Never - ever - take a cherished friendship for granted. Nurture it. Be honest and vulnerable. Admit your mistakes. Apologize. Friendships, like any relationship, need attention...face-to-face attention. Emails and texts are fine in the busy world we live in.
But nothing beats seeing your best friend smiling back at you. I love you, my dear, dear friends!
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