About a year and a half ago my Mom and I attended a memorial service for the sister of a childhood friend of mine. A. had passed away suddenly, in her early 40s. Mom and I listened while my childhood friend, K. spoke fondly of her older sibling's accomplishments.
At the reception to follow, I (re)introduced myself.
K.'s jaw dropped -- we hadn't seen each other since we were ten. I had moved away from the district, and quite frankly, didn't bother to keep in touch. But then, who did at that age, with no instant messenger, email or cell phone, in the days when you simply didn't monopolize the only land line for a family of four?
In awe, K. immediately began introducing me to everyone around her,
"This is David: he was my boyfriend when I was six!"
We all had a little laugh with some lightheartedness in the midst of some pretty heavy family grief. We'd gone from being best friends to leading completely separate lives for over 25 years.
I left my name and number in the guest book, but heard nothing - until last week.
Out of the clear blue sky, I received an email. You could have blown me over with a feather.
K. and I met for a morning coffee today (me after two and a half hours of sleep between events, and K. looking much like I felt.)
An hour over espresso-and-coffee bevies hardly does a 27-year-fill-me-in justice, however I'm pleased having caught up with an old (almost new, in a way) friend.