It was the best day.
In the spring of 2019 I emailed my high school best friend to say I'd had a dream about her. It was just a short email -- thinking of you; hope all is well. She replied to ask if I wanted to set up a Zoom call. (I had only the vaguest knowledge of Zoom in March of 2019.) That call led to daily texts and semi-regular voice calls and occasional Zoom chats. Two years later it doesn't quite feel like the day has started properly if I don't have a quick conversation with Becky first.
Even though we exchange dozens of texts a day, we hadn't seen each other in twelve years. When she suggested that we could get together this weekend, I wasn't sure it would work. (Road trips came to seem a little weird to me over the course of the pandemic. You put yourself in a metal box and hurtle down the highway at 70+ mph for multiple hours? This is weird, right?) But! it did work!
We met at the beach with two of my kids and one of hers in tow, and we picnicked and played in the water and admired Stella's sand castle and climbed a massive sand dune. Afterward we ate delicious ice cream in an empty small-town bandshell. Joe and Stella and I were able to have dinner with Marie on the way back to Gladlyville, which was a nice bonus.
Tomorrow I will turn 51 years old. I am feeling grateful for many things: perfect weather and smooth travels and tasty food and kids who got along. But I am especially grateful -- deeply, joyfully grateful -- for this friend who has been dear to me since I was 16.
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