While I’ve
been known have a need to stop and think when asked my wife’s birthday, I can
tell you in a second when my friend Susie was born. Yesterday, February
25, the day before mine.
Susie and I
met in 1971 when we were paired up on the tennis court for an informal
mixed-doubles round robin. And while we don’t see each other or talk very
often, she is one of my most long standing (he said avoiding the word “oldest”)
friends. And there’s something very comforting about that.
Facebook has
connected me with others from my teens, but with most there are big gaps. Yes,
it’s nice to remember friends from high school, but thirty-five or more of
those years are empty--no contact, no connection. By contrast, Susie and her
husband worked for years with my wife and me. Our sons were playmates and we've
spent hours with old pictures of “the good old days” telling stories,
remembering, and giving thanks.
Of course, I
have many more friends than Susie. Her husband, I’m quick to add, is also a
very good friend from the same era. It’s just that every year on my birthday, I
remember that for years and years I have been friends with someone who has been
breathing only a few more hours than I have. And somehow that makes me that
much more grateful for all of the friends who have and who continue to enrich
my life and whose lives I hope I've enrich at least a little in return.
“Friendship,”
wrote C. S. Lewis, “is the greatest of worldly goods. Certainly to me it is the
chief happiness of life.” It has been for me as well.
No comments:
Post a Comment