Friendship

We had been sitting at the table on the back patio for at least an hour when Ali decided to run to the store for more beer. Our guest had arrived in the early afternoon and as the shadows began to stretch across the yard we had been busy catching up on the twelve years since we had seen each other last.

There was laughter and some not so gentle reminders of our rapidly advancing middle age.

We met when Shelly was 15 and I was 16. That's a lot of water under the bridges of our lives. She lives half a continent away now and our lives just don't cross very often anymore.

It was a bit sobering for both of us when we realized that we had known each other quite a number of years longer than we hadn't known each other.

Ali's car could hardly have been out the driveway when she called my cell phone. "Did you offer her something to drink? What kind of friend are you?" she hissed at me.

"Hey, do you want something to drink?" I asked while Ali listened through the phone.

"Sure," Shelly answered.

"Get up and get it yourself," I told her with a laugh. Through the phone I heard Ali gasp. Then she laughed. The last thing I heard before she hung up on me was, "Real nice. . ."

It's a good feeling to have that kind of friend. One who you don't mind going through your cupboards or ransacking your refrigerator. The kind of friend, who, even though you haven't seen her in decades, can still finish your sentences. A friend who remembers your personality quirks and doesn't bat an eye because, if you haven't changed in the last 28 years why fight it now? Conversations with this kind of rare friend are easy because you don't have to fill in 30 years of backstory. She was there.

We laughed a lot this weekend. We also had some serious conversations. That's the good thing about such old friends – we've already seen and learned to accept each other's strengths and weaknesses. We already know how we have stumbled and how we've scrambled back up again. It makes it a hell of a lot easier to confess the current struggles and hear her assessments when you don't have to worry about making a good impression.

It's ironic – our advice to each other hasn't changed in 28 years. She told me I need to lighten up and I told her she needs to find some ways to relinquish the need to always be in control. We have both mellowed considerably over the years but some things just don't change.

Frankly, I hope some thing never do. I want to enjoy her company for another 28 years.