This past weekend, I had the pleasure of showing off my town (and nearby coolness) to my college roommate. She and her daughter found themselves with some extra time - so they hopped in the car for a quick 12 hour drive and stayed with D and I for the weekend.
In between the highlights of the visit, which included the Farmer's Market, an arts and crafts festival on the square, a trip to Jerome and Sedona, were what some might consider to be the low points of the weekend, but those were the parts I liked the best:
Sitting on the couch, sometimes with a glass of wine, sometimes not, sitting at the kitchen table dipping pita chips into hummus, watching an 11 year old lead my 6 year old around on a leash, as if she were a puppy, and laughing. Lots and lots of laughing. Kids laughing, adults laughing, some reminiscing, some new jokes, but beneath it all was a sense of history.
New friends are terrific, they just don't know you like the ones who knew you when you were young and carefree. The ones that knew you before the bad relationships, the horrendous fear that comes with knowing you're responsible for another person (or two), the weight of bills resting on your shoulders. The ones that knew you when all you had to worry about was shaking off a hang over and getting to class.
I don't have a lot of friends, I was never that kind of person. However, I have some really terrific ones - pretty much one or two from each of the major categories in my life. One from grammar school, two from high school, one from college, one from the beginning of my career. Maybe not a lot in numbers, but immeasurable in support and love.
Thank you for coming to visit Kim! I hope you got as much out of it as I did!